


we can kiss like real people do

by VeryImportantDemon



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: And Quentin really likes it, Backstory, Childhood Memories, Dating, Eliot Can Sing Like a Motherfucker, Eliot drives stick shift Like a Motherfucker, Eliot is gay, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Gen, Happy Ending, His cat's name is Jane Chatwin, I Tried, King and Lionheart, M/M, Margo is a Bad Bitch, Penny is a librarian, Penny is trans because I said so, Quentin is a cat person, Quentin is bi, Romantic Gestures, Singing, Somebody to Love (Queen), Song: Like Real People Do (Hozier), Tags to be updated as we go, The Neitherlands, The cheesy fake dating Queliot AU you didn't know you didn't want, There’s a lot of singing, Transgender Penny, Wonderwall, Your Song (Elton John), childhood bedroom, coffee shop AU, happy endings all around
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-01-07 12:31:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 28,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18410693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeryImportantDemon/pseuds/VeryImportantDemon
Summary: “Fuck,” Quentin said, looking down at his phone.“Jesus, Q,” Penny said with a wicked grin. “This is hilarious.”“Fuck,” Quentin repeated. “What am I gonna do?”Penny shrugged slightly, clapping him on the shoulder and rising. “You’re on your own, Q,” he said.Or: Quentin needs a fake boyfriend. Eliot obliges.





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Another WIP? And it's Queliot? Shocker. This will be short-ish chapter updated hopefully often. I didn't just want to type up a massive AU and upload it all at once so we're doing it like this.

“Fuck,” Quentin said, looking down at his phone.

 

“Jesus, Q,” Penny said with a wicked grin. “This is hilarious.”

 

“Fuck,” Quentin repeated. “What am I gonna do?”

 

Penny shrugged slightly, clapping him on the shoulder and rising. “You’re on your own, Q,” he said.

 

Quentin spun around, nearly smacking Penny’s half-full coffee cup out of his hands in his haste. “No, please,” he said. “You can’t leave me.” 

 

Penny stepped backwards as if Quentin had something contagious, holding his coffee cup aloft. He could get more for cheap since they were in a coffee shop and he usually only drank coffee black but it was the principle of the thing. He didn’t want to smell like it all day and he had to go to work. “I’ve got work. And besides, you got yourself into this mess,” Penny said. “Get yourself out.” He held his cup tightly by the cardboard sleeve, taking the last swig before crossing to the trash can near the door. Penny had discarded his cup and was about to leave, his hand on the door handle, when Quentin spoke. 

 

“You could do it?” he said feebly. 

 

“Fuck no,” Penny said. The bell on the coffee shop door jingled cheerfully as Penny departed, leaving Quentin to his fate. 

 

Quentin groaned, his head in his hands, his phone discarded on the table in front of him. He was content to stay that way, hoping his problems would disappear if he groaned long enough.

 

A cheerful voice interrupted Quentin’s wallow in his sorrows. “You seem distressed,” the man said.

 

When Quentin lifted his head, there was a man sitting across from him, about his age. He had a mess of dark curls, a long, pale face, and something glinting behind his eyes. His voice was musical and, Quentin thought, he looked pretty damn nice. The mysterious, good-looking stranger was wearing the coffee shop’s uniform - a red apron - and the nametag pinned on his shirt read  _ Janet.  _

 

“I am,” he said. 

 

“Mm,” the man said. He looked very comfortable in the chair, one arm draped over the back and the other bringing a coffee cup to his lips. “Tell Daddy what’s wrong.”

 

“No offense,” Quentin began, squinting at the stranger, “but I don’t know you, um… Janet.”

 

“None taken,” the man said. “And my name’s not Janet, it’s Eliot. None of the names on these things are right, we just grab a nametag.”

 

“Oh,” Quentin said. He supposed that made sense. “But I still don’t know you.” 

 

Eliot shrugged again, taking a sip of his coffee and lickign his lips afterwards. Q tried to pretend like he wasn’t staring, but he and Eliot both knew that he was. “In that case, it can’t hurt to tell me, then,” he added. 

 

“Why are you even here?” Quentin asked, stalling for time. Maybe the ridiculously attractive barista was on break and if Quentin talked long enough, that break would be up and he wouldn’t have to confess his embarrassing predicament.

 

“You’re sad and cute and I was bored,” Eliot said. “Now, spill.”

 

He was not to be deterred so Quentin didn’t have very long to dwell on the fact that he’d just been called cute. “I, um… I kind of lied to my dad,” he said. 

  
“Ooo,” Eliot said, leaning forward. “Exciting. About what?”

 

“It’s not that exciting,” Quentin said. “I just… He’s worried I’m lonely and he keeps asking if I’ve met someone. I just told him I had a boyfriend once to get him to stop asking and now he wants to see a picture of us.” 

 

“Mmhm,” Eliot said. “I think I’m following. Why didn’t you get that snack that was here earlier to take a pic with you?” 

 

“I can’t,” Quentin said, wondering how his life had gotten to the point that he was having an impromptu therapy session with a barista. “That’s Penny. He’s my… Sort of friend? And he’s kind of an asshole.” 

 

“Pity,” Eliot said. “This your phone?” he added, gesturing to the phone on the table. 

 

“Yeah,” Quentin said. Before he said anything further, Eliot scooped it up, unlocked it with Quentin’s face, and then set about doing something Quentin couldn’t see. “Hey!” he protested. “That’s my phone!”

 

“I know,” Eliot said. He rose from his chair, crouched down beside Quentin, and flashed a mesmerizing smile. Quentin was sure he looked a little startled and confused in the selfie because he really was confused. Eliot moved fast. He tapped on Quentin’s phone for a few more seconds as he crossed the table and sat down in the chair he had previously occupied before tapping a few more times and sliding the phone back to Quentin. “There,” he said. “Problem solved.”

 

“Um,” Quentin said, “what just happened?” 

 

“I solved your problem,” Eliot said. “Cute pic for your dad. I sent it to myself.”

 

“Thanks,” Quentin said, his hands still in his lap. “I think.”

 

“Any time, dear,” Eliot said. 

 

Suddenly there was a call from behind the counter, a woman’s voice. “El, stop flirting!” she said. “Your break’s over and I need you to refill the milk.”

 

Eliot sighed deeply. “Duty calls,” he told Quentin, rising and then addressing the woman behind the counter. “Coming, Bambi!” 

 

He swept away, gone as quickly as he had come, leaving Quentin with whiplash from the encounter. After blinking a few times to steady himself, Quentin finally reached for his phone and opened his messages. He selected his dad’s name and then the photo, smiling faintly. It was a good picture, actually, and Jesus, Eliot looked amazing. He sent the picture, about to lock his phone and leave when he caught sight of another message thread. 

 

The message was the selfie they had just taken and the contact name was  _ Eliot ;). _

 

\---

 

_ Asshole _

Found a fake boyfriend, not thanks to you.

 

not my problem

who is it 

 

Eliot. The barista from the coffee shop.

 

gay

 

He called you a snack

And he called me cute

 

still gay

 

\---

 

Quentin wasn’t quite how he managed to pull off getting a one-off selfie with the most gorgeous man he’d ever met, let alone how he managed to get the guy’s number. But he was sure it was nothing, just a one time favor. He was going to walk in the coffee shop the next day and Eliot was either a) not going to be working or b) was going to pretend like it never happened. He was ready for both of the outcomes as he pushed the door to the little coffee shop open, Penny following close behind him. 

 

“We gotta make this shit quick today,” Penny said. “I need to finish tagging the new books we got in before the library opens.”

 

Quentin shrugged, his acknowledgement of Penny’s request, as they approached the counter. They made an odd pair of friends, but they were friends. In school, when Penny had been outted, he had been set aside. Their shared sense of abandonment and discontent brought them together. Penny showed his affection with snippy words and sarcastic comments and being a pair of fists whenever they were needed. Quentin showed it with quiet support and paying for their coffee every other day. The day after his encounter with Eliot happened to be a day that Quentin was paying. 

 

Quentin reached into his jeans pocket, digging out his wallet. He thumbed through the bills while Penny ordered, not quite tuned in yet. When the familiar drone of Penny’s voice stopped, Quentin started to speak as he looked up. “I’ll have a-”

 

He stopped in the middle of a sentence, his eyes wide when he noticed the man at the cashier was Eliot. “I remember,” Eliot said with a smile matching the one from the selfie in radiance. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t?”

 

“Um,” Quentin stammered. “I, uh…” 

 

“Oh, Jesus,” Penny said with a huff. He snapped the bills out of Quentin’s hand, handing them to Eliot. “Sorry he’s dysfunctional.”

 

“I don’t mind,” Eliot said, his eyes on Quentin the entire time he was ringing up the purchase. He looked down only to count the change before handing it back to Quentin. Quentin dropped the coins back into his wallet, folding it as he tried to figure out what to respond. 

 

“I… Thanks,” he said feebly. Penny heaved a sigh, wandering down the counter to collect his coffee from the woman Eliot had called Bambi. 

 

“Quentin Coldwater, you useless fucking bisexual,” he said, turning and heading for their usual table, leaving Quentin alone.

 

Eliot seemed to be taking the whole encounter in stride, smiling the whole time. “How’d your dad like the picture?” he said. 

 

“He, um, said… Good. It was good. He liked it.”

 

Eliot laughed again, shaking his head. “I’m glad I was believable,” he said. “Feel free to make up any outrageous lies about me to tell him. The more outlandish, the better, in fact. It makes them more believable when it comes to me.”

 

Quentin smiled slightly, some of the nervousness and tension melting out of his shoulders. “I was just gonna send him the picture and then fake break up with my fake boyfriend later,” he admitted. But it seemed… Fun to pretend he had a boyfriend, especially if that boyfriend was Eliot, certifiably the most beautiful man Quentin had ever encountered. Maybe he’d wait a little longer before he told his dad he had broken it off with Eliot.

 

“Well, have fun with your bad penny over there,” Eliot said, nodding to where Penny was seated at the table in front of the window. 

 

“He’s not so bad once you get to know him,” Quentin said. “Um, thanks,” he said to Bambi when she handed him his coffee. 

 

“I’m here all week, sweetheart,” she said. 

 

Quentin turned to head to his table when Eliot spoke again. “Quentin?”

 

Q froze, frowning. “How’d you know my name?” he asked. 

 

“I write it on your cup, like… All the time,” Eliot said. Quentin felt himself flush at the obvious answer but Eliot steamrolled on. “You got my number. Use it or lose it.”

 

Eliot winked, honest-to-God winked, at Quentin and he felt his heart pound against his chest. 

 

\---

 

_ Eliot ;)  _

Hi

 

Q!!!!

Margo thought I’d scared you off

 

You didn’t 

Not yet at least


	2. The One Where Quentin Fucks Himself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus points if you can find the reference to the Magiciand book series hidden in this chapter

_ Eliot ;) _

I’m not gonna be at work today 

 

You’re not? 

 

Nah. I’m not scheduled for today. 

 

Oh

 

But I’ll be back tomorrow <3

And Margo will be there 

 

Then I’ll see you tomorrow

 

Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow creeps in this petty pace from day to day 

 

Macbeth? 

 

Ooo, a smart one 

 

—- 

 

“You’re quiet,” Penny observed as they strode along the sidewalk. Penny was wearing a vest with a low v, a dark binder visible across his chest. Of course, Quentin knew it was a binder because he knew Penny. It just looked like an undershirt to anyone else. His slacks were dark, a contrast to the scarf wrapped around his neck. His thumbs were stuck through a belt loop and he looked casual while still giving off an air of ‘do not fuck with me.’ Quentin, in his jeans, button-up, zip-up hoodie, and a leather bag on his shoulder looked like a large, tired teenager who was trying to impress everyone he passed while not making eye contact with them.

 

“I’m usually quiet,” Quentin said, shrugging.

 

“Not this quiet,” Penny said. “This is a different quiet. Like a…” Penny trailed off, scoffing and shaking his head. “A moping quiet. You’re pining.”

 

“I am not pining!” Quentin protested. “You’re just… I’m just… Quiet.”

 

Penny laughed, shaking his head. “If you’re not pining, I’m the queen of fucking England,” Penny said. “I haven’t seen you like this since Julia.” 

 

Quentin shrugged, not quite sure how to defend himself against Penny’s accusations because frankly, they were true. He was pining, as much as he hated to admit it. It was so middle school. He’d only known Eliot for a few days and he was already crushing ridiculously hard. When Eliot had texted Quentin that he wasn’t going to be in that morning, Quentin was actually upset. Upset over a guy he barely knew! But he couldn’t help it. There was something intriguing about Eliot, something that made Quentin want to get to know him. Quentin ‘Never Had a Serious Relationship’ Coldwater, Quentin ‘Held a Girl’s Hand Once’ Coldwater, wanted to get to know Eliot. He didn’t even know his last name, knew nothing more than the fact that he was eccentric, worked at a coffee shop, and was very, very handsome.

 

“Oh my god,” Penny said. “It’s the coffee shop gay, isn’t it?”

 

“No!” Quentin said immediately. That was his ingrained response to most of Penny’s accusations, or anyone’s for that matter. “Well, um… maybe. I don’t know.”

 

Penny snorted, shaking his head. “It’s coffee shop gay. Jesus, Q. That’s your taste in men?” 

 

Quentin shrugged again, hoping that their blessed arrival at the coffee shop would end the conversation. He pulled the door open and ushered Penny in. Waiting at the front counter was a very pretty girl with darker skin than Quentin’s white, which wasn’t actually that hard. He recognized her as Eliot’s friend, the girl he’d called Bambi and later Margo over text. However, her name page said neither of those and instead read Amanda. 

 

“Shit, El was right,” she said, looking Penny up and down. “You are a fucking snack.”

 

“Thanks,” Penny said. He didn’t smile, but he was inside. He’d been called too many awful things. Being called something good for once from an almost complete stranger who had no reason to butter him up felt almost nice. 

 

Margo shifted her gaze to Quentin, her lip twitching slightly. “And you’re flavor of the week,” she said. 

 

“Um… I guess?” Quentin said. Margo’s gaze was intimidating. She was intimidating. She had the same energy Penny did, the same general air of ‘do not fuck with me.’ 

 

“Right answer,” she said, popping her gum before hovering her finger over the register. “What can I get for you today?” 

 

Their orders were taken in under a minute. Penny lingered a few steps away, leaning against the counter and waiting for their coffee. Margo turned from both of them and set about making the drinks with practiced ease. Quentin, on the other hand, continued shuffling his feet and looking down. As per usual, he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself. There was usually at least a little awkward small talk with Eliot that Quentin made awkward and Eliot just smiled at and somehow rescued, while Margo or another staff member made their drinks. But Margo was all business until their drinks were in their hands. 

 

Penny turned to leave, lifting his cup up to take a drink when he noticed something on the sleeve. Instead of his name, there was a phone number. “What the fuck?” he said, turning around. Margo shrugged, mouthing  _ call me  _ and holding her thumb to her ear and her pinky to the corner of her mouth. The corner of Penny’s mouth twitched, too, almost a smile. Penny was a lot of almosts. 

 

Her trap set, Margo turned to Quentin expectantly, her elbows on the counter. He gathered that she was waiting for something but he couldn’t tell exactly what. “Um… thanks?” he said finally. 

 

“You’re welcome,” she said, her eyes still fixed on Quentin. He hadn’t satisfied her. “I guess I can see it,” she hummed, talking more to herself than to Quentin. “You are kind of cute.”

 

Quentin felt like a broken record as he heard himself saying “Um, thanks,” again.

 

“But no games,” she said, suddenly serious. “Do not play games with him or I will fuck you up, kid.”

 

Before he could inquire further, the bell above the door altered them to the presence of another customer. Margo disappeared as quick as she had come, leaving Quentin with his coffee, more questions than answers, and a slightly heavy heart.

 

\---

 

_ Amanda _

Amanda, right?

 

Margo, actually

 

Well, Margo, you flirt with every guy who buys coffee from you?

 

Only the hot ones

And I don’t give my number out to just anyone

;) ;)

 

\---

 

Quentin got used to his new routine. Eliot was at the coffee shop counter in his red apron and absurdly fancy vest and button-up more often than he wasn’t. He beamed every time he saw Quentin and chatted with him while Margo made Quentin and Penny’s drinks. He’d talk to Quentin over the counter while he nursed his coffee on mornings Q wasn’t in a rush and sometimes he’d even take his break to come sit with him.

 

“Your boytoy is fucking weird,” Penny remarked one day as they left the shop, their routes to work - Penny to the library and Quentin to the law practice his paid internship was at - taking them the same way. 

 

“Maybe,” Quentin said. 

 

“Maybe? More like definitely,” Penny said, sticking his thumbs through his belt loops. “And you’re still not over him.”

 

“You can’t be over someone you were never with,” Quentin pointed out. 

 

Penny shrugged again. “You could be,” he pointed out. “And I’m not saying so because I’m your friend. I’m just tired of you moping around all the time. You’ve had the guy’s number for weeks. You see him almost every day. Pull your head out of your ass and ask him out.”

 

Quentin went quiet, pondering Penny’s suggestion. He could. He could just ask Eliot out. It would be simple enough, wouldn’t it? He could send him a text. Just a simple,  _ hey, dinner?  _ Or he could ask him in person at the coffee shop. That would work, too. Or, and this was the most probable option, he just wouldn’t and he would wallow in his sorrow with his massive crush forever because there’s no way someone as cosmopolitan as Eliot would want to date someone like him. 

 

“No,” he said finally. 

 

Penny huffed. “Fuck,” he said. “Whatever.”

 

He started up the steps of the library before Quentin called after him, “It’s supposed to rain! Take the bus tonight!”   

 

“Ask him out, fucking coward!” Penny shouted back before the large glass door closed behind him. Quentin heaved a sigh, taking out his phone. He studied it for a few moments, debating whether or not he should text Eliot. He stood on the sidewalk in front of the library for a good few minutes before he stuck the phone in his pocket, hunched his shoulders, and kept heading on to work. Maybe someday when he was braver. 

 

\---

 

_ Dad _

Hey, Curly Q

 

Hey, Dad

 

How’s work? 

 

The same, you knows 

It’s work

 

And Eliot? 

 

Um

Eiot ?

 

Your boyfriend right? 

Your aunt’s been asking about him

I’m curious too

 

Um

 

You haven’t split have you? 

 

No

Still together 

 

Do you have anymore pictures I can show the family?

And just for me 

 

Yeah

Sure

Can do that

Easy normal request

That’s very doable

I’ll get on that

 

—-

 

_ Asshole _

Fuck

Penny fuck

 

what did u break 

 

I lied

And it caught up with me

 

can i say told u so yet 

 

My dad wants pictures of me and my boyfriend

On dates 

That we haven’t been on

Because we’re not dating

 

jfc q this is why you need 2 learn 2 lie

dont tell a lie you’ll get caught in

 

Please help me

What do I do

 

told u 2 ask him out little bitch


	3. The One Where Quentin Gets A Date (Sorta)

_ Eliot ;)  _

I need a favor 

 

Anything for my beau <3 

 

My dad wants pictures of me and boyfriend on dates

Which I don’t have because I don’t have a boyfriend 

But I have you 

So I need pictures of us on dates 

Because he thinks you’re my boyfriend

 

Say no more 

I’m an actor 

I didn’t play Jean Valjean for nothing 

Talk at the coffee shop? 

 

Yeah

See you then 

 

<3 <3 <3

 

—-

 

“I asked him out,” Quentin said when Penny emerged from his apartment building to meet up with Quentin for their daily walk. 

 

“No you fucking didn’t,” Penny said. He was dressed very differently today, in a three piece suit. His style varied so wildly from one day to the next that Quentin stopped asking why.

 

“I did,” Quentin said. “Well, sorta.”

 

“Sorta,” Penny echoed, arching an eyebrow. “How exactly do you ‘sorta’ ask someone out?”

 

“I asked him to help me take pictures for my dad,” Quentin explained. “And he said he would.” 

 

Penny heaved a sigh. “That’s not a real date,” he said. “Doesn’t count.” 

 

“Maybe so,” Quentin said. “Maybe so.” But he was proud of himself for actually asking Eliot to do even that. He wasn’t good at asking for help and he sure as hell wasn’t good at asking people out on dates. He’d maybe done it two or three times in his entire life. He was proud of himself. Small steps, right? Small steps. 

 

They arrived at the coffee shop with little else interesting happening on the walk. They were greeted, as per the usual, by the chime of the bell above the door and Eliot’s cheerful voice calling, “Quentin!” 

 

Quentin couldn’t help but smile at that. Hearing Eliot’s greeting always made him smile for some reason. “Hey,” he said as he and Penny walked up to the counter.

 

“When are we going on our date?” he asked curiously, already adding Quentin’s order to the register and Penny’s when the other man disclosed it. 

 

“Um, I don’t know,” Quentin said. “Soon. When are you free?” 

 

“My shift ends in…” Eliot paused, frowning and turning to Margo who was busy making drinks behind them. “Bambi, when am I off?” 

 

“Two hours,” she said, not turning from the machine. “Todd and Josh are coming in.”

 

Eliot sighed and shook his head. “God damn,” he said. “How does this place ever run with the two of them?”

 

“I honestly don’t know,” Margo said. She turned around, passing Quentin’s drink to Eliot and drumming her fingers on Penny’s. 

 

“Anyway, Quentin,” Eliot continued, turning his attention back to Quentin who had been attempting to follow that conversation like watching a ping pong match. “I am free in two hours.”

 

“Cool,” Quentin said. “Um, I’ll be here in two hours. Then we can go get pictures.” 

 

“Nice,” Eliot said, beaming. He slid the drink across the counter to Quentin. Shyly, Quentin smiled, tucking a piece of hair behind his ear before he took it.

 

“Thanks,” he said. “Um, I’ll be here. I don’t have anywhere else to go, so… I’m just gonna stay here. And do emails and stuff.” 

 

“El, get him the good WiFi password,” Margo told him. Eliot obligingly turned and flounced towards the back kitchen, leaving Margo to turn her attention back towards Penny. 

 

“Can I have my coffee now?” he asked. 

 

“Sure thing,” Margo said, sliding the cup across the counter. Penny took it but didn’t go for a drink yet, his eyes still on Margo. 

 

“What’re you looking at?” he asked. 

 

“You,” Margo said. “You wanna fuck?” 

 

Penny hesitated, shaking his head. “You’re upfront,” he remarked. 

 

“Yeah,” she said, shrugging. “Do you want to?” 

 

“God, I do,” he said. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it. “But I don’t have a dick.”

 

Margo barely paused for a beat before she spoke again. “Okay,” she said. “I get off in two hours. Meet me here?”

 

Penny smiled that time, really smiled. “Two hours,” he said. He lifted his cup to her in a slight toast before turning to Quentin who was lingering a few steps behind as Eliot had started serving another customer. 

 

“What was that about?” Quentin asked as they made their way to the table nearest the window. 

 

“You don’t want to know,” Penny said, taking a swig of his coffee, seemingly impervious to the temperature. Penny was essentially invincible, Quentin had learned. He had been through shit that Quentin couldn’t even begin to imagine and he was still around. There was something to say about that. 

 

“Ew,” Quentin said, pulling a face. “Is it a sex thing?” 

 

“I told you you didn’t want to know,” Penny said, sinking down into his usual chair and taking a sip of his coffee. He looked a lot like someone that Quentin couldn’t quite place.

 

“I really didn’t,” Quentin said, sighing. 

 

They drank their coffee like they normally did before Penny rose, swinging his leather bag over his shoulder. “Don’t let him fuck you up,” Penny said seriously. Before Quentin could really absorb his words, Penny had nodded at Margo and was gone.

 

—- 

 

Quentin had been sitting in the coffee shop for about half an hour after Penny had left when he heard Margo’s voice. “He looks like a sad puppy,” she said. Quentin frowned at his laptop screen. She was talking about him when he was right there. 

 

“He does,” Eliot said, sighing. “Shall I tell him?”

 

“If he fucks up the signal, I will kill you,” Margo said.

 

Eliot’s huff was followed by the sound of a coffee maker grinding. Quentin locked back onto his laptop again, trying to block out the conversation that was clearly about him. He was disturbed once again when a dark shape hovered in front of him. It was Eliot and he was setting another coffee in front of Quentin. 

 

“Look,” he said, tapping the cardboard sleeve. “Instead of your name, I wrote the WiFi password. You’re welcome.” 

 

Quentin pulled the coffee closer to him, peering at the string of numbers and letters. “Oh, cool,” he said. The connection he was getting on his hotspot was kind of awful. “Um, I can pay you for the coffee?” He reached into his pocket for his wallet but Eliot stopped him. 

 

“No, no, no,” he said, shaking his head. “On the house.” Eliot winked again, leaning on Quentin's table. 

 

Margo’s voice cut over the bell above the door. “I said give the poor boy the WiFi password not start sucking his dick. We have customers!”

 

“What are you gonna do?” Eliot said, shrugging and whirling back behind the counter. 

 

Quentin smiled as he typed in the string of numbers and letters and it wasn’t just because now his browser was moving faster now. 


	4. The One Where Eliot Gets Into a Fight

_ Asshole _

Use protection 

 

im a trans man in my 20s i know how 2 use protection 

 

I know, I know

I just wanted to make sure you were 

 

should say the same 4 u

 

We’re just taking pictures

Of fake dates

Of me and my fake boyfriend

To lie to my dad

Nothing’s going to happen

  
  


not w/ that attitude it wont

jesus q at least u can grow a pair

 

Why are you like this Penny 

 

kiss my ass coldwater

 

—-

 

The monotony of Quentin checking emails and doing grunt work for his supervisors was broken up every so often by Eliot gracing Quentin with his presence for a short conversation before Margo called him back to work. As the two hour mark drew closer, two men entered. Quentin guessed they were Todd and Josh because they went behind the counter, into the kitchen, and emerged wearing aprons and nametags. Shortly after, the bell chimed again but it was Penny this time.

 

“Thank fuck,” Margo said. “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

 

“Me, too, girl,” Penny said smoothly as he approached the counter. 

 

Margo grabbed his tie, pulling him down. “May I?” She said.

 

“I’d be offended if you didn’t,” Penny said honestly. Margo pulled his tie just a little more, enough to kiss him passionately. 

 

Quentin shook his head, turning away as Margo led Penny around the counter and towards the back of the shop. 

 

“Probably a good thing we’re getting out of here,” said Eliot’s voice, making Quentin flinch slightly. He’d been so busy watching Penny and Margo that he hadn’t realized that Eliot was coming up behind him. Now that his apron was gone, Quentin could tell that Eliot was wearing a stylish button-up with the sleeves rolled to his elbows with a tie underneath a vest. His slacks were pressed and he even had dress shoes on. All to work at a coffee shop. He was dressed very, very nicely and Quentin, even though he tried to dress up a little more, wasn’t anywhere near Eliot’s level. Quentin, even though he tried to step his attire up a few notches in anticipation for these pictures, still felt underdressed, 

 

“You look nice,” Eliot said. “Ready to get out of here?” 

 

“Um, yeah,” Quentin said. He shut his laptop, shoved it in his bag, and stood up. 

 

“Where were you thinking?” Eliot asked, holding the door open for Quentin. Quentin slipped out, lingering next to the door and waiting for Eliot. When the door closed behind him, Quentin started off down the sidewalk, Eliot beside him. 

 

“I thought we’d go basic first,” Quentin said. “Maybe go to the park. Then we can go somewhere else.” 

 

“Ooo, good idea,” Eliot said. “There’s this really good hot dog stand near the park.”

 

“You look nice, too” Quentin said eventually, unsure of what else to say. He wasn’t good at flirting at all, but his compliment was heartfelt. Eliot really, really looked nice. It felt awkward to be paying the compliment after such a long delay that he almost didn’t, but it needed to be said. 

 

“You’re sweet,” Eliot said, straightening his tie as they walked. “I dressed up. Want to look good for my modelling debut.”

 

Quentin laughed at that, laughing without thinking about how awkward he looked. He abruptly stopped when he noticed Eliot’s eyes on him, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear nervously. “Um, sorry,” he said. 

 

“Don’t be,” Eliot said, shaking his head. “You’re cute when you laugh. I like listening to it.” 

 

Quentin flushed, his cheeks turning pink as he watched Eliot amble along. He looked so casual and every movement seemed to have a purpose. Quentin wished he could move like Eliot, like Penny, like Margo. Like someone who understood who they were and their place in the world. 

 

\---

 

Quentin was very thankful that he hadn’t embarrassed himself in some way by the time they finally arrived at the park. If something terrible happened, then he and Penny would have to find a new coffee shop and Quentin would have to confess to his elaborate lie. But nothing entirely tragic had happened yet. He could only hope that his record would continue.

 

“What about there?” Eliot said. He pointed a few yards away. Situated near the center of the small park was a duck pond. The grass was plush and green around it and there were a handful of ducks and a few geese creating ripples in the water. 

 

“Um, looks good,” Quentin said. They just needed to get seated, take a good picture, and then they could move on to the next fake date. A few would satisfy his dad, Q figured. At least for long enough to buy Quentin some time. 

 

“We were on a picnic,” Eliot decided. “I am a hopeless romantic and for Arbor Day, I took you out to…” He scanned their surroundings before loping over to a spot underneath a large tree. He sat down, stretching out and leaning back on his elbows. “This very spot to celebrate.”

 

“You have an… Active imagination,” Quentin said, suppressing a smile as he made his way over to where Eliot was seated. He crossed his feet before lowering himself to the ground without using his arms to steady himself, landing with his legs already crossed. 

 

“Holy fucking shit,” Eliot said. “That was awesome.”

 

Quentin, who had been rifling in his pockets for his phone, looked up with a frown. “Uh… What?” 

 

“That,” Eliot said, gesturing widely at Quentin. “That whole thing you just did. I don’t gracefully sit. I flop dramatically. Fuck, I don’t even sit right because I’m gay.”

 

Quentin couldn’t help but smile again as he pulled out his phone. “I guess I’ll take this one,” he said, trying to ignore the warmth he felt at what was such a simple, silly compliment. He took his bag off, setting it just out of sight of the picture, and lifted the phone. “Ready?” he asked. 

 

“As I’ll ever be, babe,” Eliot said. He flashed a grin that Quentin could see behind him on the screen, a smile bright enough that it made him smile, too. He snapped a few, just to make sure there was one that was good enough to send to his dad. He lowered the phone, flipping through the handful of pictures, when he heard Eliot cry out. 

 

“What the fuck!” 

 

Quentin looked up from his phone to see Eliot taking off after a large, gray goose that had the strap of Quentin’s laptop bag in its beak. “Shit,” he said. He stood up, ready to jump to Eliot’s aid in rescuing the bag, but something stopped him. There was something entrancing about watching Eliot, a man he’d never seen outside of a coffee shop, doing something so simple yet brave to rescue Quentin’s laptop. 

 

The goose had stopped, the strap still held tight in its beak as Eliot approached it. “Give it back, you little shit,” Eliot told the goose very firmly, reaching for the bag. The goose squawked, muffled by the bag, and tried to take off again. The bag was too heavy for it to fly with so, flapping its wings, it dragged the laptop along beside it as it was relentless pursued by Eliot. “Bitch!” Eliot shouted. 

 

Quentin burst out laughing, snapping a quick series of pictures of the battle. It was heating up when the goose finally decided to drop the bag. However, it seemingly did so only to attack Eliot. It hissed loudly, speeding towards Eliot on its webbed feet, wings outstretched. “No,” Eliot said firmly. “Mine. My laptop.” He lingered for a few beats before he realized the goose had not stopped the charge. At that point he changed strategies, circling around, grabbing the strap of Quentin’s bag, and sprinting back to where Quentin was waiting. About half of the way back, the goose decided the leather wasn’t worth it and headed back towards the pond.

 

Panting, Eliot bent over, his hands braced on his knees. “Holy shit,” he said between gasps for breath. Quentin felt a little bad for laughing while Eliot struggled but seeing him sprinting after a goose dragging a laptop bag was funny. Eliot looked up and Quentin, still trying to catch his breath as he triumphantly held out the bag. “Here,” he said. “Got it.”

 

“Thank you,” Quentin said, swinging it over his shoulder. He flicked through the photos he had taken of the brutal attack absentmindedly, smiling faintly at the comedic value of the photos. “That was… amazing.” 

 

“Couldn’t let the little rat bastard get away with that,” he said, finally starting to catch his breath. “God, my smoker’s lungs are catching up to me.” 

 

“My knight in shining armor,” Quentin said before he thought about it too much. He was a hopeless romantic at heart, longing for something he’d never had and finding it in books instead. Except he found it somewhere real this time. A man who was willing to help him lie to his dad and fight terrifying geese. 

 

“Uh, you said there was food around here or something?” Quentin asked. “I owe you one. For helping me with this. And fighting that goose.”

 

“Oo, yeah, there is,” Eliot said. “Hot dog stand across the green. They do them New York style and the saurkraut is amazing.”

 

Quentin stuck his hands back in his pockets, walking beside Eliot as they picked their way across the park, dodgin parents with kids and people with dogs. When they finally arrived at the hot dog cart, Quentin squinted slightly at the menu. 

 

“What do you want?” Quentin asked. 

 

“New York style and Sprite,” Eliot said. “I’m a soda snob.” 

 

Quentin smiled faintly again, about to step into line when Eliot spoke up again. “Can I see your phone? I want to look at the pictures. I didn’t get to see them before I was brutally attacked.” 

 

“Sure,” Quentin said. He pulled his iPhone out of his pocket, handing over to Eliot before stepping into the line behind the man and two women already there. For a moment he thought about how trusting he was to give an almost complete stranger his phone, but he couldn’t see Eliot running off with it. 

 

He ordered the two hot dogs, a Sprite for Eliot, and a Coke for himself, paying before trying to balance everything in his arms. Eliot swooped in, plucking the two soda bottles off of the counter. “Thanks, El,” Quentin said, Eliot humming in acknowledgement. He hadn’t even realized he’d used that nickname until it was too late. His eyes widened and he was about to speak, to apologize, but Eliot didn’t look as if there was a single thing wrong. 

 

“Where do you want to sit?” Eliot asked. 

 

“Anywhere,” Quentin said honestly. His day had been absolutely amazing so far. He and Eliot could be eating hot dogs covered in brown mustard and sauerkraut in a subway tunnel and he wouldn’t care. 

 

Not that he would eat in a subway tunnel if he could avoid it, but if it was with Eliot, he’d be willing to risk whatever diseases he’d get.


	5. The One Where Quentin Can't Dance

_ Bambi  _

I almost died today 

 

Drama queen 

 

For real!!

I fought a goose! 

 

Fuck

 

But it was very valiant

I rescued Quentin’s laptop from its clutches

 

If that’s not going to make him love you, what will?

 

—- 

 

“Shit,” Quentin said as soon as he’d swallowed a bite of his hot dog. He and Eliot had selected a spot under a tree far enough away from the pond that they weren’t in danger of being attacked again, far enough away that Quentin could enjoy his hot dog in peace. “This is fucking amazing. How did I not realize this place existed?” 

 

“You truly haven’t been living,” Eliot said, using a napkin to wipe mustard from the corner of his mouth. He even looked graceful with mustard all over his face, Quentin thought. Or maybe what made him graceful was his sureness. He knew who he was and where he was meant to be every time he moved. “These are the absolute best hot dogs I have ever had in my entire life and although I do tend to exaggerate, I am not this time.”

 

Quentin smiled, careful to keep his mouth closed while he chewed. He didn’t want to do anything disgusting while he was here on a date. No, not a date. A sort-of date. A fake date. He finished his meal, equally enthralled by Eliot and the hot dog itself. He was almost upset that he was done, assuming that it meant they would have to move along again, their moments of peace disrupted. 

 

“Gimme,” Eliot said, holding out his free hand, his paper container and napkins stacked inside in the other. Quentin handed over his garbage, watching as Eliot traipsed a few feet over to the trash can near the park path to dispose of it before returning. “Where to now, Q?” he asked.

 

Quentin climbed to his feet, adjusting the strap of his bag. “We could pretend to go see a movie,” he suggested. “Just take a picture outside of the theater.”

 

“Smart, smart,” Eliot said. “Shall we go?”

 

“We shall,” Quentin said, flushing slightly as they started off together. 

 

\---

 

They were almost at the movie theater when Quentin got distracted. To their right was an old arcade, one he remembered fondly from his youth. He’d spent long hours nestled inside with Penny, feeding machines quarters and competing to see who could get the highest scores. Eliot caught Quentin’s eye as they lingered at a crosswalk. 

 

“You know the place?” he asked. 

 

“Uh, yeah,” he said. “Pretty well. Me and Penny used to go there all the time back in school.” He didn’t mention exactly why they’d started going there - to hide from Penny’s parents.

 

“Then let’s go there,” Eliot said. “That’s a lot more meaningful than some dumb movie we didn’t even go see.” 

 

Before Quentin could say anything else, Eliot had taken his elbow and was steering him into the building.

 

As soon as they stepped over the threshold, Quentin was overwhelmed with vivid memories from his childhood. The scent of stale popcorn, the floors sticky with soda that someone had waited far too long to mop up, watching Penny bent over a machine, the feel of paper tickets in his hand, the glass display case streaked with fingerprints. God, they had loved this place. 

 

“I have a five dollar bill,” Eliot declared. “We shall use this for our entertainment. Where do I get quarters?”

 

“The machine’s over here,” Quentin said, leading him over to the boxy black machine, a sign under a blinking red light advertizing that it would accept up to a twenty dollar bill and spit out quarters. Eliot fed the machine his bill, catching the quarters in a paper cup from a stack next to the machine. “We are now the richest men in this building,” Eliot said solemnly as he held the cup, looking very out of place among the snot-nosed little kids, their tired parents, and some angry-looking teenagers. 

 

“I think we’re the only men in this building,” Quentin observed. 

 

“What should we do first?” Eliot asked. “I was never one for playing video games as a kid.”

 

Quentin wanted to ask what exactly Eliot did as a kid, then, but he held his tongue. “Penny’s favorite game was Galaga. Mine was skeeball.” He smiled faintly, recalling one day in their childhood when Penny had broken the Galaga machine’s number one record. 

 

“Skeeball first, then,” Eliot said. “We’ll see if your skills have withstood the test of time.”

 

They weaved their way between rows of old arcade machines, reaching the back wall of three skeeball machines. They claimed two adjacent ones, popping a quarter in the slots. “I’m so ready,” Eliot said, picking up one of the plastic balls to his right. 

 

“You’re going down,” Quentin said with a smile of his own, doing the same. 

 

Quentin had been good at skeeball. He’d been so good that he could often get a perfect score, 1000s on every ball. But today, he was too busy looking over at Eliot, concentrating so hard yet not excelling in the slightest. Quentin took out his phone in between shots, snapping a few pictures of Eliot. Good ones. In the end, Quentin did come out triumphant, although not the perfect score of his youth. Even then, it was several hundred points above Eliot’s.

 

“You’ve fought well,” Quentin said, laughing as he pulled his tickets off, folding them and sticking them in his pocket. 

 

“Yet I could not prevail,” Eliot said with a fake deep sigh. “However, we should still commemorate this moment.” He sat on the edge of the ramp of the skeeball machine, gesturing for Quentin to join him. “Selfie camera out, Q.”

 

Quentin sat next to him, snapping the picture. He usually didn’t smile in pictures, but this one was genuine. 

 

\---

 

They only had two quarters left after a few more rounds of skeeball, Eliot failing miserably at Galaga, and a best two out of three set of air hockey matches. “What should we do with this?” Quentin asked, palming the quarters since the paper cup had been commandeered for tickets. They danced around his fingers, disappearing and reappearing from his sleeve at will. Slight of hand had long been a hobby of his, too. 

 

“I know,” Eliot said, grinning. “That dancing thing.” He pointed in the corner where the machine waited, the colors faded neons and the thing clearly neglected. “I’m not a musical theater kid for nothing.” 

 

“I can’t dance,” Quentin said. “I promise you, I really can’t.”

 

“Good, then,” Eliot said. “I’ll finally win something. Let’s go.” He took Quentin’s hand and led him over to the game, seemingly unaware of the shock of electricity that ran up Quentin’s arm at the touch. 

 

Eliot claimed his player one position on the left, waiting patiently for Quentin to insert the quarters and take his spot. Quentin obliged and Eliot tapped two players when the option became available on the screen. 

 

Quentin didn’t know the song that started playing, just that it was some cheesy pop blaring in his ears. He was more concerned with trying to keep his feet on the correct colored shapes beneath him. He glanced over at Eliot. Even though the steps were nonsensical and likely completely randomized, he made them look like a dance. He made the pop song fade away. He made Quentin fade away and lose his concentration and roll his ankle, toppling to his left. 

 

Eliot reacted immediate, catching Quentin before he could hit the ground. “Fuck, sorry,” Quentin said, looking up. He was suddenly aware of how close they were, close enough that Quentin could smell stale cigarettes and coffee on Eliot, close enough that he could feel him breathing. Their faces were inches apart. 

 

“You okay?” Eliot asked, holding Quentin’s shoulders. 

 

“Yeah,” Quentin said breathlessly. He wasn’t sure how long they stood there because it felt like an eternity to him, an eternity that he spent wanting so badly to know how Eliot’s lips felt but not doing anything about it until the machine chimed happily from behind them, informing the pair that player one had won the game. Instinctively, Quentin straightened up, tucking a few flyaway pieces of hair back where they belong. He was still out of breath and he wasn’t sure if it was because of the exercise or how close he and Eliot had been. 

 

“What should we claim as our spoils of war, then?” Eliot asked, gesturing to the paper cup Quentin had set on the lip of the machine. 

 

“Um, I was thinking as much candy as the guy’ll give us,” he volunteered. 

 

“That is a beautiful plan,” Eliot said, and it wasn’t the only beautiful thing in the arcade. 

 

\--- 

 

The pile of candy they acquired held them over as the took a picture together outside the movie theater, in the entryway of a nice restaurant, and a handful of other places that looked like ‘date material’ as Eliot put it. They were out for hours, so long that they stopped to get pizza at a little parlor near Quentin’s apartment. 

 

“Tomorrow?” Eliot asked as they lingered in front of his apartment building, finally parting. The day had felt like an eternity, a perfect eternity. 

 

“Yeah,” Quentin said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

As he watched Eliot walk away, Quentin mused that it would have been a great date if they were dating. 

 

Once hidden away in his own apartment again, Quentin flipped through the pictures they’d taken, sending the best ones to his dad. After he’d sent the text, he noticed that Eliot had been sent a string of pictures Quentin didn’t take because he was in them - Quentin getting their hot dogs, Quentin playing Galaga, Quentin scrutinizing a poster on a shop window, Quentin, Quentin, Quentin. 

 

Quentin smiled so hard his face hurt and he didn’t stop until he fell asleep. 


	6. The One Where Eliot Gives Q a Penny For His Thoughts

_Eliot ;)_

You wanna hang out today??

I’m bored and it’s my day off

 

I’m going to the library with Penny.

I need to get some reading done.

 

Ooo, sounds fun. Can I come?

 

You want to go sit in the library and watch me read?

 

Why not?

I need to re-read the Scottish play again anyway

Auditioning for the man, the myth, the legend himself

 

\---

 

Quentin was sitting across from Eliot at a table, a book opened in front of him. There was never time to stop learning in his field and when he’d decided to take some time to do reading, he was exceptionally grateful that Eliot decided to come with. Eliot had a soft cover edition of Macbeth sitting in front of him, paging through it while Quentin scoured his law book. But their quiet reading was interrupted as Penny passed their table pushing a cart of books and Eliot spoke up.

 

“Hey, why did you want to be a librarian, anyway?” he called.

 

“Because I wanted to get paid to tell people to shut the fuck up,” Penny said, not even pausing as he passed them. “Shut the fuck up.”

 

Eliot let out a barking laugh that made Quentin smile. He did know, however, that Penny’s position was less because of his desire to tell people to be quiet and more because of his love for books and acquiring knowledge. He had always been far smarter than he seemed. Quentin turned a page, listening as Eliot did the same. Eliot cleared his throat and Quentin looked up.

 

“Can I read you something?” Eliot asked. “I haven’t done Shakespeare since I was Romeo in high school.”

 

“Um, sure,” Quentin said, hoping he wasn’t blushing again. The man he was in love with wanted to read him Shakespeare.

 

“Good,” Eliot said. He ran a hand through his dark curly locks before flicking the page again and starting to read. “She should have died hereafter,” he said. “There would have been a time for such a word. Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, creeps in this petty pace from day to day. To the last syllable of recorded time, and all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more. It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.”

 

Eliot’s voice rose and fell, was soft and tender and then bitter and angry. Quentin could feel the pain that Macbeth did at the loss of his wife and he was getting it through Eliot. His speaking voice was amazing, like an angel’s, and Quentin was sure Shakespeare himself couldn’t have imagined anyone better.

 

“So?” Eliot prompted. “Was I good?”

 

“You were fucking awesome,” Quentin said sincerely.

 

“Thanks, Q,” Eliot said, patting Quentin’s hand. Quentin flushed again but luckily his further embarrassment was prevented by the appearance of Penny, sinking into a chair next to Quentin.

 

“Hey,” he said.

 

“Oh, the king deigns to speak with us peasants,” Eliot said dramatically, snapping his book closed and holding it against his heart. “I cannot believe that this day has come.”

 

Penny rolled his eyes. “Whatever, nerd,” he said. “Margo’s supposed to be meeting me here after work and I’m almost off my shift. Figured she’d be with you.”

 

Quentin shrugged slightly an Eliot responded. “We came on our own.”

 

“Cool,” Penny said. “If you see her, let me-” He stopped, cringing when he saw someone over Eliot’s shoulder. “Fuck, that’s my boss,” he said as an uptight-looking woman with glasses and a bobbed haircut rounded the corner. “She’s a homophobic bitch. You didn’t see me.”

 

Penny disappeared again, slinking off towards the check-out desk.  

 

“You have a very intriguing friend,” Eliot said, sliding back down in his chair and opening his book again.

 

“Penny’s something else,” Quentin said, turning a page in his book.

 

“How’d you two end up together?” Eliot asked curiously.

 

“It was when we were both still in school,” Quentin recalled. “Someone told his parents he was trans. Our shared sense of loneliness brought us together. Besides, I was the only person who ever called him William.” Quentin paused, thinking. “Actually, we became friends when he punched me, I think.”

 

“Punched you?” Eliot repeated, just a little disbelieving.

 

“Yeah,” Quentin said. “I bumped into him in the hallway once and he thought I pushed him so he decked me. But then I said ‘what the fuck, William’ and pushed him back. He stopped trying to hit me because he was so shocked that I got his name right. And we’ve kind of been friends ever since.”

 

“That is a truly beautiful story,” Eliot said sincerely.

 

Quentin brushed a piece of hair back, revealing a small scar next to his ear. “He gave me that, too. With his ring.”

 

Eliot laughed at that as Quentin let his hair fall back where it normally laid.

 

“Wait,” Eliot said after a beat. “If his name is William, then why do you call him Penny?”

 

“It’s a nickname,” Quentin explained. “He was always really good at being able to tell what I’m thinking. I said once that I didn’t even need to give him a penny for my thoughts because he knew them already and it kind of stuck.”

 

“Meaningful,” Eliot quipped. “Meanwhile, I am El because it is a shortened version of my name.”

 

“I mean, that’s why I’m Q,” Quentin said, shrugging. “Because apparently Quentin is too long.”

 

“My proper title is actually High King Eliot the Spectacular,” Eliot said, “but that’s too long for most people, so I shortened it to Eliot.”

 

Quentin laughed again. A beat after he’d stopped, he spoke again. “So, uh, you call Margo Bambi, right?” he asked. “Where’d that come from?”

 

“We met in kindergarten when they brought all the ankle-biters together to watch Bambi for Earth Day or some shit,” Eliot said. “It kind of stuck.”

 

As it usually happened when Quentin and Eliot were talking, Quentin lost track of time. He always lost himself in talking to Eliot. He wasn’t even aware time had passed until Margo plopped down next to him. “What up, my bitch?” she said. He hoped it was fondly.

 

“Bambi, darling,” Eliot said. He leaned forward, giving her a kiss on the forehead. They had  a very, very different kind of friendship than he and Penny did, Quentin thought, but that was just what it was.

 

Before they could get into too much conversation, Penny appeared from behind Eliot again. “Hey, girl,” he said.

 

Margo sat up straighter, beaming. “Penny!” she said happily, crossing around the table to pull his collar down so she could kiss him deeply.

 

“Wow, PDA,” Eliot said, covering his eyes, another gesture that made Quentin laugh. “Get a room.”

 

“We’re going to,” Penny said as soon as Margo pulled back, allowing him to get a breath. Quentin pulled a face as Penny led Margo back into the library.

 

“They’re gonna fuck, aren’t they?” he said.

 

Eliot hummed solemnly, lowering his hands from his face. “For sure. Probably more than once.”


	7. The One Where Quentin Gives Really Good Relationship Advice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little long for this fic but not that long for me - about 2000 words. Hope you enjoy!

Usually when Quentin closed himself up in his apartment for the night, he didn’t get visitors. In fact, he usually never got visitors. The only person who ever really came to his place was Penny and that wasn’t very often. So when he heard knocking on his door, he instantly thought he was being robbed. 

 

Already in his lounge pants, Quentin grabbed the closest thing to the sofa that could be weapon which ended up being the TV remote. He had the foresight to pause the episode of Parks and Rec he was on before creeping towards the door where someone was still banging on it. “I’m armed,” he shouted. “I… I have a weapon, and if you don’t stop, I’ll-“

 

Quentin stopped immediately when whoever was banging on his door spoke. “Just let me in, Quentin.” It was Penny which would not have been that weird except for the fact that he didn’t say fuck. Hindi and swearing were Penny’s first languages. He tossed the remote on the couch before hurrying to the door and throwing it open. 

 

“How’d you get up?” he managed, trying to take in the look of his friend. Penny looked shaken up, distraught, unsure. Three things William ‘Penny’ Adiyodi never was. 

 

“You don’t have a doorman and I’ve been here before,” Penny said, slipping into the apartment. There was a perfect opportunity for a thinly-veiled insult at the end of Penny’s statement but there was nothing. 

 

“Um, what happened?” Quentin said, closing the door behind Penny and leading him back over to the couch. 

 

“Margo asked me out,” he said. 

 

Quentin blinked, frowning. That was the cause of all the chaos? “Oh, cool,” Quentin said. “Good… For you? How’d it go?” His words were a little stilted and awkward because he wasn’t quite sure how to respond to this. Penny had slept with a few different people that he knew about but he’d never had this sort crisis over someone asking him out. 

 

“It didn’t,” Penny said, throwing himself down on the couch. Quentin almost protesting, claiming that he’d just got the couch cover fixed but decided he’d better let Penny have this. He had been sitting only a few moments when Quentin’s cat, Jane, emerged from her hiding spot under the sofa and jumped into his lap. Penny absentmindedly started scratching her behind the ears but his attention was on Penny. “She asked me if I wanted to go to a Cage the Elephant concert with her. Which isn’t a problem because I fucking love Cage the Elephant, right?”

 

“I’m aware,” Quentin said, trying his best to follow the story. 

 

“But then she said as a date. She wants to take me to see them as a date,” Penny continued.

 

Quentin frowned. “Okay,” he said. “So she asked you on a date. What’s the problem?”

 

“The problem is I don’t fucking know,” Penny said, heaving a sigh as Quentin crossed the room to sit on the couch next to him. “I panicked and ran away. I’ve never had a fuckbuddy want to date me before.”

 

“Well, uh…” Quentin trailed off, gathering his thoughts before starting again. “Let’s… Let’s go back to the beginning. Do you like her?”

 

“Yeah,” he said. “Of course I do. She’s Margo, she’s fucking amazing.”

 

“Okay, good place to start,” Quentin said. “Like her as in like to have sex with her or like her as in you actually want to have a relationship with her?”

 

Penny hesitated for a few beats before he spoke. “Want to have a relationship,” he said finally.

 

“Okay,” Quentin said. “Now, if you like her, why’d you run away?”

 

“Because…” Penny trailed off, his hand stilling in the cat’s fur. “Because… Well, fuck. I don’t know.”

 

Quentin swallowed, shifting his weight and debating what to say next. “I think maybe you do,” he said cautiously, not wanting to hurt his friend. “Do you, uh… Do you wanna talk about it?”

 

“Since when did you become a therapist?” Penny grumbled. 

 

Quentin shrugged. “I’ve been to enough that I picked up a few things,” he said. “Do you?”

 

Penny didn’t answer the question directly but he did start talking. “I don’t want to lose her,” he said, not even reacting as Jane started to knead his legs with her claws. “She’s the best fucking person that’s ever ended up in my life other than you. She’s smart and funny and she’s fucking gorgeous, Q.” He paused to take a deep breath. “Maybe this is all I was ever meant to have with her. And I’d rather have this than nothing. And if I’d said yes, and we went on a date, then we’d be dating. And she’d realize who I was and I don’t know if she’d like that shit. Shit, Q.” He stopped petting the cat to ball his hand into a fist. “Why should I get a happy ending when so many people don’t?”

 

Quentin let the silence stretch for a few beats, processing before he spoke. “Well, I think maybe… Maybe you have to take chances,” Quentin said. “If you like her, and you really want to be with her, you have to take that chance. Because what you have now, it’s not going to last forever. And if you want something that’s going to last forever, you have to risk that it won’t.” Quentin paused. “I don’t know if that made sense,” he said. “It did in my head. What I’m trying to say is if you want to be with her, you have to be brave. Do something scary and risk that something is going to change because sometimes change makes life better.”  He paused again, letting the silence drag on, before he finally gathered up the words to speak again. “As a wise man once told me, pull your head out of your ass and ask him out.”

 

Penny smiled faintly, recalling the day when he’d said the very same thing to Quentin. “You just have to be brave,” Quentin continued. “And it’s hard and it’s scary but you just have to be brave.” 

 

“Thanks, Q,” Penny said after a really long pause. 

 

“Yeah, no problem,” Quentin said. “That’s what friends are for.”

 

“Not friends,” Penny said, shaking his head and starting to stroke Jane again. 

 

Quentin frowned. They kept up their playful repartee of ‘we’re not friends’ but now didn’t seem the time. A heartfelt conversation about relationships. 

 

“Brothers, motherfucker,” Penny amended and Quentin couldn’t help but smile. 

 

“For what it’s worth,” Quentin said, “I really think you’re going to get that happy ending. I don’t know if it’ll be with Margo, but you’ll get it. You deserve it.”

 

They hit a natural lull in the conversation and that was when Penny stood up suddenly, unseating the cat on his lap. Jane meowed angrily and slunk off under the sofa again. “I need to go tell her I want to go to that concert,” Penny said. “Fuck. I don’t have a car.” Quentin picked up his phone from the arm of the couch, heading towards the door. “I’ll call an Uber,” he said. “Come on. Let’s go.”

 

Penny beat him out the door, Quentin barely remembering to lock it behind them in their rush. Luckily, there was an Uber driver nearby and they weren’t standing out on a New York sidewalk at night for too long. They climbed in the black camry, Penny giving the driver the order to go as fast as his car could. 

 

“Um, but don’t get arrested,” Quentin added. 

 

As they snapped their seatbelts, Quentin frowned. “Wait,” he said. “Penny, where’d you come from?” 

 

“Margo’s apartment,” Penny said. “That’s where we need to go.” He gave the address to the driver, sitting back and anxiously drumming his fingers on his leg as he stared out the window. He didn’t speak much on the drive which was fine for Quentin because it gave him time to think. 

Everything he’d said to Penny was true. Quentin had anxiety and he didn’t like change but sometimes… Sometimes change  _ was  _ good. Maybe the change of actually dating Eliot and not just fake-dating him would be good. It had to be good. Maybe he needed to follow his own advice and actually do it. Penny was afraid but he was still doing it so Quentin could, too. 

 

Just as Quentin’s resolve hardened, the Uber pulled to a stop. Quentin thanked the driver hurriedly because Penny was already out of the car and up to the building, but he hadn’t gone in. “Fuck,” he said. 

 

“What’s wrong?” Quentin said, jogging up behind him.

 

“I don’t know if she’d even buzz me in,” he said. “And I can’t get in unless she does.” 

 

“Well, um…” Quentin trailed off, trying to come up with a solution until a familiar voice called from above them. 

 

“Well, look who it is!” 

 

Quentin tensed, looking up for the source. “God?” he asked. 

 

“It’s not God, it’s Eliot. But I do admit I would be a fantastic god.”

 

‘Backing away from the building Quentin saw Eliot leaning against the railing of a small balcony on the second floor smoking a cigarette. He must live with Margo, Quentin figured. Why had he never asked that? “Hey,” he called. 

 

Eliot waved. “What are you doing here?” he asked. “And how do you know where I live?”

 

“Uh, Penny,” Quentin said as his friend rejoined him. “He wants to go to a Cage the Elephant concert with Margo.”

 

“Oh-ho!” Eliot crowed. “Back again so soon. I’ll go see if she wants to come out.” Eliot disappeared into the apartment, returning a few moments later with Margo at his side. 

 

“What the fuck, Penny,” she said, crossing her arms. “You fucking ditched me.”

 

“I know,” Penny said. “It was a dick move. I was scared but I’m not anymore and I really fucking want to go to the concert, Margo.” 

 

Even from a story up, Quentin could see the slight smile on Margo’s face. “I am willing  to extend an olive branch,” she said. “I’ll bring you up.” She disappeared into the apartment again leaving Quentin alone since Penny was already heading back to the door to the building.

 

“Hey, stay down there!” Eliot called. “I’m coming down!” 

 

“Uh, okay?” Quentin said, a little confused as Eliot disappeared, closing the glass door that led onto the balcony. Quentin watched as he pulled the curtains shut and then a minute later, Eliot, in a silk robe and pajamas, was beside him. 

 

“Hey,” he said, a little out of breath. “I decided that since they’re going to fuck, I do not want to be in the apartment right now. You want to go see a movie?”

 

Quentin looked down at his feet. “I’m not wearing shoes,” he said. He’d run out of his apartment with Penny so fast he’d completely forgotten to put them on. 

 

“I don’t either,” Eliot said.

 

Quentin smiled, realizing Eliot was right. “Yeah,” he said. “I do.”


	8. The One Where Eliot Womans Up

_Bambi_

Babe

I think I’m dating someone

 

Quentin??

 

Yes!!!

I very much want to date him and I don’t know if we are or not??

I took him to a movie while you and Penny were fucking yesterday

 

I totally warned you about this

 

You did

 

Told you this would happen

And you should woman the fuck up and ask him out

But alas

You did not

 

I did not

 

Love you but you’re on your own, babe

You asked for this

 

—-

 

_Todd_

I need your help

 

Oh my god

You never text me

Holy shit

The last time you texted me it was hey Josh how much for a joint and then nvm

I can do it

Whatever you need I can do it

 

This was a bad idea we’re done here

 

—-

 

_Dealer_

I think I’m dating someone

 

How do u think ur dating someone

 

You remember Quentin, right?

The cutie with the floppy hair who was in the shop when you came into work that one day?

 

Uh yeah

 

I’m pretty sure I’m dating him

I took a selfie with him to convince his dad he had a boyfriend because he’d lied about it

But then his dad wanted more pictures so we went out on a bunch of sort of dates to take them

And then I took him to see a movie yesterday

And now I think we’re dating

 

Do u like him

 

Fuck yeah

 

Sounds like a date

 

But I don’t know if it’s for real!!

Because he only ever asked me to take the pictures!!

 

Have u done anything other than that

 

Yeah

We’ve gone back to the arcade a couple times

He let me win at skeeball

We hang out

And the movie yesterday

 

He let u win at his favorite game

That shit’s gay my dude

And he said yes for the movie?

He likes you

But you have to ask

Like u gotta ask him

For reals

 

For reals?

 

For reals

And make ur intentions clear

 

I’m gonna do it

Today

I’m doing it today

You’re doing it

 

I’m going to tell him that I like him, Josh!!!!

 

Ur gonna do it!!

 

I’m actually going to do it today!

 

I believe in you!!!

 

—-

 

_Margo_

He’s not going to do it is he

 

I don’t know but I really fucking hope he does

 

—-

 

“I can’t believe you,” Penny said, shaking his head. “This is complete and utter bullshit.” He was dressed casually this time, in red jeans, a gray t-shirt, and a patterned button-up layered over it.

 

“It is not,” Quentin protested, watching his feet rather than his friend as they strode down the street. “It’s… It’s a totally normal way to go about this.”

 

“No it fucking isn’t,” Penny said with a laugh. “You don’t start a relationship by asking him to lie about being your boyfriend. Whatever you have is not normal.”

 

Quentin shrugged slightly, anxiously adjusting the strap of his bag. “Maybe it’s not,” he admitted. “But I like it.”

 

He did like it. He liked his relationship with Eliot because he liked, well, Eliot. He would take any sort of relationship he could get with the other man even though he wanted something more.

 

“But you could have something else,” Penny said. “You could have something more. You just have to be brave and fucking do it. Someone told me that recently and it worked out pretty damn well for me.”

 

The corner of Quentin’s lips twitched. Maybe he did need to take his own advice.

 

“I just have to be brave,” he repeated. “I just have to be brave.”

 

“Be brave,” Penny said, clapping Quentin on the back as they approached the door to the coffee shop.

 

“Be brave,” Quentin whispered to himself. “Be brave. Be brave. Be brave.”

 

He took a deep breath and stepped through the door.

 

There was a customer in line in front of them, a man who it seemed had just entered the shop. Something about the back of the man who was ordering from Margo looked familiar but Quentin couldn’t place exactly where he’d seen the man before just from his back. It was Penny who realized it first, his hand now on Quentin’s arm and vicelike in its grip.

 

“Quentin,” he hissed. “It’s fucking Ted.”

 

Quentin’s blood ran cold because Theodore Coldwater was in line in front of them. Quentin’s father, the man he and Eliot had jointly been lying to, was about to encounter the real Eliot and his entire plan was about to come crashing down. He was going to get caught in a lie before he was ready to tell the truth.

 

“Fuck,” he whispered. “Fuck, Penny, what do I do?”

 

Before Penny could answer, Eliot emerged from the back room, holding a gallon of milk in each hand. “Hey, Bambi,” he called. “Where exactly do these need-”

 

He stopped when Quentin’s father spoke up. “Eliot!” he said.

 

Immediately, Eliot stopped and frowned. “I’m sorry, what?” he asked. “How do you know who I am?”

 

“I’m Ted,” Quentin’s father said. “Ted Coldwater. Quentin’s dad.”

 

Eliot’s eyes went wide with realization. He glanced behind Ted towards Quentin. They locked eyes, fear evident in both of them. But Eliot was an actor. He could handle the situation, hopefully.

 

“Oh, yeah,” Eliot said, smoothing the awkwardness over as best as he could. “I didn’t recognize you. Yeah, I’m Quentin’s boyfriend. What brings you here?”

 

“Saw your shop on my way downtown,” Ted explained as he paid Margo, who was shaking her head and sighing. “I have a business meeting out this way today and thought I’d stop by. I remember it from all those pictures Curly Q sends me.”

 

Eliot hummed, glancing at the screen to read his order before turning around and starting to prepare the coffee while he talked. “It’s really good to see you,” he said. “Q’s told me a lot about you.”

 

“And he’s told me all about you,” Ted said with a laugh.

 

“Good things, I hope?” Eliot asked.

 

“The best,” Ted said, nodding slightly. “He really seems to love you.”

 

Eliot’s frown was almost imperceptible but somehow Quentin picked up on it while his own cheeks were burning. But Eliot recovered quickly, spinning around and holding out the coffee. “Well, I really like him, too,” he said.

 

Ted stepped back from the counter to allow the next patrons to step up to the register and that was when he noticed them. “Curly Q!” he said. “Penny.”

 

Quentin swore in his head. He’d been hoping they could escape his father’s notice but it wasn’t to be. “Hey, Dad,” he said.

 

Penny nodded. “What up,” he said by way of a greeting.

 

“I didn’t think I was going to see you here!” Ted said, giving Quentin a strong, one-armed squeeze.

 

“Me and Penny usually stop here in the morning on the way to work,” Quentin explained. “TO get coffee. And, uh… Um…”

 

“See me,” Eliot prompted with a mischievous smirk.

 

“I’m hurt,” Margo said, one hand on her chest. “Me, too. Come here, babe.”

 

Obligingly, Penny stepped forward, leaning over the counter so they could kiss deeply.

 

Ted smiled a little, shaking his head and turning his attention back to Quentin and Eliot on the other side of the counter. “While I’ve got you both here,” he said to Quentin, “you aunt’s having a sort of family reunion for all the birthdays this past month this weekend. Why don’t you and Eliot come stay upstate?”

 

Quentin instantly shook his head, trying to think his way out of the situation. He couldn’t bring Eliot home to meet his family because they weren’t even dating! They’d get caught ridiculously quickly and the whole thing would come crashing down. “Well, um, I…” Quentin stumbled over his words, searching for something that could get them out of this. “Eliot’s busy this weekend,” he blurted. “He has, uh…”

 

“Nothing that can’t be moved,” Eliot assured Ted. “I’d love to come.”

 

“Great!” Ted said. “Looking forward to it.” He held out his hand which Eliot shook firmly. “It was really nice meeting you.”

 

“You, too, sir,” Eliot said.

 

Ted gave Quentin another one-armed squeeze, his coffee in his other hand, before he left the shop.

 

“What just happened?” Quentin asked, feeling stupid. “I’m so sorry, El, I didn’t…”

 

“It’s okay,” Eliot said with a laugh. “It was bound to happen sometime. We can make it our first date, if you want.”

 

Quentin stalled again, his mind breaking down. “Um, what?” he said. “First date?”

 

“Yeah,” Eliot said, shrugging. “A real first date. We had a couple but this one would be...”

 

“Ours,” Quentin said, understanding. “Not my dad’s. Not a lie’s. Ours.”

 

“Ours,” Eliot repeated. “I like that. So, what do you say, Curly Q?”

 

Quentin couldn’t help but beam. “I’d like that,” he said. “I’d really like that.”


	9. The One Where Eliot Plays Piano

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ask and ye shall receive, dear readers

_ Penny _

I’ll have the apartment to myself while Eliot’s away with Q

You know what that means

 

Sex

And a fucking pillow fort

 

And sex in the fucking pillow fort

 

\---

 

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Quentin said, shaking his head. “You’re going to meet my entire family on our first date.”

 

“I am,” Eliot said. “A little unorthodox, but hey. I’m a little unorthodox.”

 

“But to get there we have to endure an hour long car ride with my dad,” Quentin said. 

 

Eliot shrugged. “I’ve done things way more awkward and terrible,” he admitted. “We can just sit in the back and cuddle.”

 

Quentin couldn’t help but smile at Eliot’s comment. The taller man held out his hand, smiling a little at him. “May I?” he said. Quentin felt a rush of something akin to adrenaline and affection course through his body. 

 

“You may,” he said, taking Eliot’s hand.

 

Eliot’s fingers were longer than Quentin’s, he realized. His hands were warm and lined and the pressure of Eliot’s gentle squeeze felt like coming home to Quentin. 

 

“Oh, God,” Eliot said, sighing happily. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hold your hand.” 

 

Quentin flushed pink, unable to stop smiling as he looked down at their linked hands. “I like you a lot,” he said.

 

“You’re sweet,” Eliot said, squeezing his hand again. “I like you a lot, too.”

 

They were waiting on the curb for a few more minutes when Quentin’s father pulled up. He rolled the window down, smiling brightly. “You two ready?” he asked.

 

“Yessir,” Eliot said. 

 

“Uh, thanks, Dad,” Quentin said. He let go of Eliot’s hand to open the door, gesturing for his boyfriend - he really, really liked being able to call him boyfriend - to enter. Eliot slung his duffel bag into the car, sliding in. Quentin climbed in after him, closing the door once they were both safely in the back seat. 

 

“Anytime, kiddo,” Ted said. “Seatbelts on back there?” 

 

On the command, Eliot snapped his seatbelt on. He was sitting next to the window with Quentin awkwardly apart from him against the other window as Ted pulled away from the curb. They were quiet for a few moments until Eliot huffed and spoke. “Well, I’m bored,” he said. “This is why I don’t drive.”

 

Quentin smiled faintly at Eliot. “I don’t drive either,” he admitted. “I usually just sleep.”

 

“Oh, smart,” Eliot said. “I like that idea.” Pulling on his seatbelt, Eliot got comfortable, leaning against the car door and propping his feet up on Quentin’s lap. He was tall and lanky with long legs so he reached all the way to Q on the other side of the car. “This is nice,” he decided. “I like this.”

 

“Do you boys want some music?” Ted asked from the front seat. 

 

“Uh, sure,” Quentin said, his head against the window for a beat. 

 

Ted flipped the radio on, twisting the dial until he settled on a station. 

 

“ _ And I feel life for the very first time,” _ the radio sang. “ _ Love in my arms and the sun in my eyes. I feel safe in the 5am light. You carry my fears as the heavens set fire.”  _

 

Quentin looked over at Eliot, unable to suppress a smile. His eyes were closed and he was breathing softly, relaxing. He looked beautiful, Quentin thought. He was so, so lucky. He didn’t intended to fall asleep but the radio and the car’s movement lulled him to sleep. 

 

—-

 

Quentin awoke with a jolt when the low-to-the-ground car took the jump from the road up the curb and into his aunt’s driveway. Eliot evidently had the same rude awakening because he sat up straight instantly, his eyes wide. “Jesus Christ,” he said. Quentin couldn’t help but smile at the way the side of his hair was plastered to his head. Eliot was dazed and adorable at the same time.

 

He remembered the house well. Quentin’s aunt had lived here since Quentin was a kid. They’d spent time with their family up here, reunions and days during spring break and the summer when Quentin didn’t have anything better to do. It was a nice, big two story house with a sprawling backyard and a pool. He was, however, still a little nervous as to what  Eliot would think. These people were his family and his brand new boyfriend was meeting them on their first date. He wanted to make a good impression and his family could sometimes be a lot to deal with. 

 

“Here we are,” Ted said, putting the car into park and turning it off. Quentin climbed out of the car, slinging his duffel bag over his shoulder, Eliot following. Eliot came around the back of the car to meet up with Quentin, making a grabby hands gesture with his free hand. Flushing a little, Quentin conceded, taking Eliot’s hand. 

 

“Success,” Eliot whispered which made Quentin smile more.

 

Ted led them into the house and Quentin, knowing these people, was instantly overwhelmed. In his aunt’s large living room, there were aunts and uncles and cousins everywhere - sitting on the sofas, draped across armchairs. A few cousins were even sitting on the ground. A handful of them were on their phones but everyone looked up when Ted, Quentin, and Eliot entered. 

 

“Quentin!” his aunt called, the aunt who owned the home. “It’s so good to see you!” She hurried over to the pair. Quentin let go of Eliot’s hand to hug her back. 

 

“Uh, hi,” he said. 

 

“And who’s this tall drink of water?” she said when she pulled back, looking Eliot up and down. Eliot grinned, waving. 

 

“Um… Eliot,” Quentin said. He reached out instinctively and Eliot’s hand was already there. “He’s my boyfriend.”

 

“It’s a real pleasure to meet you,” Quentin’s aunt said. “Oh, Ted’s showed me all the pictures of you! You two are so cute.”

 

“The cutest,” Eliot agreed. He looked over at Quentin, grinning, which made Quentin smile, too. 

 

“Go on, you two sit down,” Quentin’s aunt said, ushering them to a couch. Eliot flopped down, getting comfortable. Quentin followed, trying to assimilate into the conversation. They were talking about something that had happened on a reality show that Quentin didn’t watch. But he was enjoying being near Eliot, anyway. He squeezed Eliot’s hand and Eliot squeezed back. Being around his family was usually very awkward but it wasn’t with Eliot. He just felt at home.

 

The conversation eventually shifted to the grand piano in the corner of the living room. “Why do you still have that?” one of Quentin’s uncles asked. “You don’t even play.” 

 

“Oh, I don’t know,” Quentin’s aunt said. “I always thought I might learn. It came with the house, anyway. The older owner didn’t feel like going through all the hassle of moving it.”

 

Quentin’s uncle accepted that answer and he thought it was the end of the piano discussion until Eliot spoke up. 

 

“I can play,” he said. 

 

Immediately, all attention was on Eliot. “Really?” a cousin said. “Play something!”

 

Eliot laughed at the clamour of the Coldwaters wanting to hear that old grand piano finally played. “Alright, alright, if you insist,” he said. He stood up, squeezing Quentin’s hand and kissing the back of it before letting go and making his way to the piano bench. Quentin trailed after him, sitting cross-legged on the ground next to the piano where he could see Eliot’s face. 

 

His boyfriend linked his fingers before turning his hands so his palms were facing out and his arms were straight in front of him. Eliot popped his knuckles before spreading out his delicate, long fingers on the piano keys. He took a deep breath and started to play. 

 

Eliot was picking out the notes of Heart and Soul, very slowly and awkwardly. Quentin was enthralled anyway because he could play music to save his life. But after an agonizing minute of Heart and Soul, Eliot laughed out loud. “Just kidding,” he said. “I’m better than that.” With that, he launched into a complicated classical piece with different parts for the left and right hands. His long fingers darted across the keys and his hands sometimes crossed over each other. It was a hauntingly beautiful melody and when he stopped playing, Quentin felt an ache in his chest. 

 

“El,” he said softly. 

 

“Eliot!” Quentin’s aunt cried. “Oh, that was beautiful. Will you play us something else?”

 

Eliot grinned at Quentin, winking. “My pleasure, Ms. Coldwater,” he said. He took a deep breath, thinking for a beat before he launched into another song. He hit a chord before he started to sing. 

 

“Can… Anybody… Find me… Somebody to love?” Eliot crooned, his hands shifting positions to strike the right chords at the right time. At the very first note, Quentin was in love. Eliot’s voice sounded exactly like Quentin thought an angel might. If his speaking voice when Eliot was reading him Shakespeare was beautiful, his singing voice was another level, smooth and sweet as honey. 

 

Eliot launched into the first verse of the song empathetically, his piano playing as beautiful as his voice as the song started to pick up. “Each morning I get up I die a little. Can barely stand on my feet! Take a look in the mirror and cry, ‘Lord what you're doing to me.’ I have spent all my years in believing you. I just can't get no relief, Lord, somebody. Oh, somebody. Can anybody find me somebody to love?”

 

Quentin’s heart ached in his chest. He could really feel the emotion in Eliot’s voice, feel how desperately he wanted someone to love him. Words could stay nothing but words, but they weren’t for Quentin, not when Eliot poured so much of himself into them. They were three dimensional, real. Quentin felt like he could stretch his hand out and touch them but he didn’t for fear of breaking the magic of the moment. 

 

“I try, and I try, and I try,” Eliot sang. “Everybody wants to put me down. They say I’m going crazy. They say I got a lotta water in my brain, I got no common sense, I got nobody left to believe.” He drew a breath before launching into his closing chorus. “Oh, Lord, somebody. Somebody. Can anybody find me somebody to love?”

 

The piano was the last sound they heard, the notes lingering in the air even after Eliot’s voice had fallen silent. Eliot let out a breath, smiling and spinning around on the piano bench. “Was I good, baby?” he asked Quentin, taking his hand. 

 

“The best,” Quentin said, out of breath just from listening to Eliot sing. 

 

Eliot lifted Quentin’s hand up to his lips and kissed the back of it while Quentin’s family applauded the show. 

 

“You’re going somewhere, kid,” one of Quentin’s uncles said. 

 

Quentin agreed. He just hoped wherever Eliot went, he would be there, too. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone is curious, I imagine Eliot's song sounding a lot like this - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8JLOKStAea4


	10. The One Where Quentin Says The Magic Words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter you have all been waiting for has finally arrived

_Bambi_

How are things going at casa de Coldwater??

 

Surprisingly well

They have a piano

You got to show off, didn’t you?

 

Big time

And it was fucking awesome

 

Queen?

 

You know my relationship with Freddie

Q loved that shit

It was one of the single greatest moments in my entire life

 

And if you and Penny fuck on the couch cushion, wash them before I get back pls

 

\---

 

“I’m kind of surprised,” Quentin admitted. He was sitting at the bar in the kitchen, watching Eliot stand and eat a leftover slice of birthday cake on the other side.

 

“About?” Eliot asked before he took another bite of vanilla cake and bright blue icing.

 

“How well that went,” he said. “I didn’t know they’d take that well to you.”

 

Eliot swallowed before he spoke again. “They didn’t strike me as the homophobic type,” he said. “But anyone can be, I suppose.”

 

“Oh, they’re not,” Quentin said. “They’re really not. That’s not it. I’ve just… I’ve never brought anyone home before.

 

“You never brought anyone home?” Eliot asked. “Really? Not even a girl?”

 

“No,” Quentin said. “I mean, the closest I’ve ever come in Penny. He comes over around the holidays every year. But he’s not a boy.” Quentin paused. “I mean, he is. But he’s not a boyfriend. I’m not dating him.”

 

“I get it,” Eliot said, using his fork to break off another piece of cake. He held the fork out across the bar to Quentin. Quentin reached out for it but Eliot shook his head. “Just eat it off the fork,” he insisted. “You’ll drop it.” Flushing, Quentin accepted the bite. He made the mistake of making eye contact with Eliot while he did so and the look on his boyfriend’s face but him smile and laugh, almost spitting out the cake.

 

“Sorry,” he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

 

“Don’t be,” Eliot said. “You’re fucking adorable.”

 

“You’re adorable, too,” Quentin said. “I mean… Gorgeous. And beautiful. You’re just…” Quentin stumbled over his words again, just like he tended to do. “...Perfect.”

 

Eliot smiled, leaning across the countertop to kiss Quentin on the forehead. “This has been a pretty great first date so far,” Eliot admitted. “I mean, I wowed you with my musical talents, then lost epically to you in a very competitive game of Uno with all of your family members, and there was also cake.”

 

“Draw 4 is a bitch and no one is safe,” Quentin said seriously.

 

“If I could have a hundred days just like this with you, then I would be the happiest man on Earth,” Eliot said seriously.

 

Quentin flushed again. It was the most romantic thing anyone had ever said to him and he completely blanked on how to respond. He was saved by his aunt, sticking her head in the kitchen.

 

“Curly Q, we’ve got the guest bedroom upstairs made up for you two whenever you’re ready to turn in,” his aunt told him.

 

“Thanks,” Quentin said.

 

Eliot turned around, throwing away the paper plate and plastic fork before Quentin’s aunt addressed him. “There’s a bathroom just down the hall,” she said. “Have Q show you if you get lost.”

 

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. When she disappeared back into the living was when Quentin realized he hadn’t told her they’d wanted separate bedrooms for the night, or at least the guest bedroom with the futon.

 

“Um,” Quentin said. “We don’t… We don’t have to share. I can sleep on the couch, down here. Or up there. Or anywhere, really. I kinda forget to tell her that we needed-”

 

Eliot cut Quentin off by tapping him on the nose as he boosted himself up to sit on the bar. “Quentin,” he said. “It’s okay. Do you mind sharing?”

 

With someone else, maybe he would. But with Eliot? “No,” he said. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

 

“You’re sweet,” Eliot said with a smile. “And very considerate. I thank you for thinking of me, but honestly, I don’t mind. If it makes you feel better, I’ll sleep on top of the covers. Margo can tell you how much of a blanket hog I am.”

 

\---

 

Quentin and Eliot had visited the bathroom down the hall - at separate times, of course - to brush their teeth and change into their pajamas before they finally climbed into bed. Eliot was about to throw the comforter back when his phone vibrated, screaming a pop song at him. “Oh, fuck,” he said. He silenced the alarm, throwing his phone onto the bed and crossing the room to where his duffel bag had been discarded. He started riffling through it as Quentin frowned.

 

“What’s that for?” he asked.

 

Eliot shrugged, finally finding what he sought - an orange pill bottle. “Margo had me set that alarm because I kept forgetting the little motherfuckers that force my brain to make the happy chemicals,” Eliot said, shaking the bottle. He poured two out on his palm, popping them in his mouth and swallowing them dry.

 

Quentin pulled a face. “I don’t know how you can do that,” he said. “I’ve been taking three a day ever since… Well, middle school and I almost throw up if I try to take mine without at least water.”

 

“It’s a skill,” Eliot said. “Honestly, I learned because I’m a lazy son of a bitch.”

 

Quentin laughed, worming his way under the covers as Eliot replaced his medicine bottle in the bag and joined him. There were a good to inches of space between them preventing any touch.

 

“So this is your childhood bedroom?” Eliot asked.

 

“Kinda,” Quentin said. “This is where I stayed when me and my dad would come up here when I was younger. My old bedroom at my dad’s place is… Well, there’s a lot more embarrassing emo posters. And Fillory merch. And shag carpeting I never got around to taking up.”

 

Eliot grinned in the dim light of the bedroom, the lamp on Quentin’s side the only bulb illuminating them. “That’s adorable,” he said. “I’m picturing it now.”

 

“You’re definitely picturing it a lot worse than it actually was,” Quentin promised him. “I can tell you that right now.”

 

“I’m having fun,” Eliot teased. “Did you have the really long bangs over your eyes and all the rubber bracelets?”

 

Quentin went quiet for just long enough that Eliot crowed in triumph. “You did!” he cried.

 

“Shh, shh!” My dad’s sleeping,” Quentin said, trying to quiet Eliot even though he was laughing. “I only had the bangs for… A month or two, I think.”

 

“The mental image I am having is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” Eliot said, shifting to face Quentin.

 

“What were you like as a kid?” he asked. “What did you bedroom look like?”

 

Eliot shrugged slightly. “I didn’t really have one,” he said.

 

Quentin frowned. “Didn’t have a bedroom?” he asked. “What do you mean?”

 

“I slept on the couch in the living room,” Eliot explained. “I had four brothers and neither of them would stoop so low as to bunk their beds so I could have a place to sleep.”

 

Quentin was quiet for a few moments. “That’s…”

 

“It wasn’t great,” Eliot admitted. “I tried to stay out of the house as much as possible. I was over at Margo’s almost all the time. I had more of my shit at her house than my own.. I was a really gay kid, if you can believe it. Like, a flaming homosexual.”

 

“Shockingly, I can,” Quentin said.

 

“Well, my dad - ye olde tobacco farmer who thought women should stay in the kitchen and gays should be burnt at the stake - was not overly fond of my life choices.”

 

“I’m… I’m really sorry,” Quentin said, his voice soft.

 

“Don’t be,” Eliot said. “It’s not your fault he was a dick. He was just a massive, raging dick for whom I feel nothing but pity and a minor amount of rage.”

 

“He doesn’t deserve you,” Quentin said. “Eliot, you’re… You’re beautiful. And smart and funny and you can sing and play piano and read Shakespeare and you’re… You’re the nicest guy I’ve ever met.”

 

“Thanks, Q,” Eliot said softly, his eyes down a little. He reached over, brushing a lock of Quentin’s hair back. “He always told me I wouldn’t make anything of myself. That I’d never find anyone to love me and that I’d be thankful for his belt in the end.”

 

“Is that why you like that song?” Quentin asked.

 

Eliot hummed in acknowledgement. “Yeah,” he said. “I locked onto Freddie Mercury when I was a kid. Here was… Here was a queer man who sung and danced and _performed_ and lived his life proud and didn’t give two shits what anyone thought about him. I wanted to be him. I built myself up after him. He helped me become who I am now. Who I’m meant to be.”

 

Quentin’s heart twisted in his chest again and he felt something from in bubbling up and filling his entire body. “Eliot,” he said softly, “I love you.”

 

Eliot smiled, a real, soft smile, and reached over to touch Quentin on the cheek. “Can I kiss you?” He asked.

 

Quentin swallowed and nodded. Eliot, smiling softly, leaning forward. He pressed his lips to Quentin’s, soft and gentle and passionate and everything Quentin wanted. Quentin wanted to kiss him forever, kiss him until he ran out of air to kiss him with. When he couldn’t breathe anymore, Eliot pulled back and spoke.

 

“I love you, too,” he said. “I really, really love you, Q. I have loved you since the first day I met you, I think.”

 

“Me, too,” Quentin admitted. “I just… I didn’t want to fuck it up, you know?”

 

“I do know,” Eliot said. “Believe it or not, I wasn’t always as confident as I am now. Most of my relationships were fuck and move on. But when I met you…” He shook his head as much as he could laying down, smiling softly. ”I didn’t want to fuck and leave. I wanted to… I wanted to take you to the park. And to my favorite hot dog stand. And to bring you coffee for free and give you the WiFi password and go to the movies and the arcade and…” Eliot finally stopped to take a breath. “I wanted to be with you. And not just fuck.”

 

“So you do want to have sex?” Quentin said.

 

“Oh, god, yes,” Eliot said.

 

There was a beat of pause before Quentin spoke. “Like… Now?”

 

“In your pseudo-childhood bedroom with your dad and your aunt a few rooms away?” Eliot asked.

 

Quentin shrugged. “Yeah. If you want to.”

 

Eliot laughed. “I do want to,” he said.

 

“Hold on,” Quentin said. He rolled over, reaching into the drawer under the lamp and pulling out a condom before shutting it.

 

“Why the fuck do you have these?” Eliot asked, sitting up and laughing.

 

“Well, uh…” Quentin shrugged. “My dad tried to have The Talk with me when we were up here one summer. Gave me a bunch of these. I think they’re all still here.”

 

“Q,” Eliot said, snatching the wrapper from his boyfriend, “I am truly, madly, deeply in love with you.”


	11. The One Where Eliot Drives Stick

_ Asshole  _

Penny

Penny 

Penny

 

dude wtf 

 

Penny 

I had sex 

 

ok??? 

good 4 u? 

why r u telling me 

 

I told Eliot I love you 

For real

And he said it back 

And then we fucked

 

should i send a card 

congrats i think

 

—- 

 

“Well, that was a very successful first date, I think,” Eliot said. He bumped Quentin’s shoulder with his own, smiling. 

 

Quentin laughed, too, nudging Eliot back. “Yeah, I think so, too,” he said. He shifted his bag to his other shoulder, waiting for his dad to finally come out of the house so they could start back to the city. 

 

“Do you want to go get dinner when we get back to town?” Eliot asked. 

 

“I’d like that,” Quentin said, taking his hand and squeezing it. 

 

Eliot leaned over, tipping Quentin’s chin up to steal another kiss as Ted finally exited the house. “Alright, ready to go, boys?” he asked, starting towards the car.

 

“I can drive us back,” Eliot volunteered. 

 

Quentin frowned. “You said you didn’t drive,” he said. 

 

“I said I didn’t, I didn’t say I couldn’t,” Eliot said. 

 

“El, my dad’s car is a stick,” Quentin said. 

 

“I know,” Eliot said cheekily, winking. 

 

“You don’t mind?” Ted asked, pausing. 

 

“Course not,” Eliot said. He held up his hand, catching the keys Ted threw at him. “Get in, babe.” He pulled Quentin close to his side, pecking him on the cheek before throwing his bag in the back and climbing in the driver’s seat. 

 

Quentin went around the opposite side, his bag between his feet, only the middle console of the truck separating him and Eliot. He snapped his seatbelt as Eliot shifted the car into gear, throwing his right hand over the back of Quentin’s seat, turning around to back. 

 

Quentin’s cheeks were getting a little warm but he’d deny it if anyone asked. He wasn’t impressed and a little turned on by the casual way that Eliot was driving a stick shift. 

 

Except he definitely was. 

 

Eliot winked at Quentin as he let the wheel spin in one hand a little and Quentin flushed again. Eliot pulled out of the parking spot without coming anywhere close to hitting the cars on either side of him and he was pulling back out on the road. 

 

“You’re really good at this,” Ted observed. “Stick’s really jerky if you don’t know how to drive it.” 

 

“I learned on my dad’s old truck,” Eliot explained. “I could drive that thing like I’d been born in the front seat.” 

 

Quentin settled into the rhythm of the drive quickly. Eliot had picked a station and cranked the radio up, singing along to whatever song he pleased. The window was rolled down, giving his dark curls a wind blown look that Quentin was definitely enjoying. He had never been one for long car rides but he really enjoyed this one. There was something really calming about the rocking of the car, the rush of the wind, and Eliot’s voice. 

 

Eventually, the serenity of the car ride ended and they were back in the city. “Where am I dropping you and this bad boy off at?” Eliot asked Ted who was sitting in the backseat. 

 

“Actually, I need to stop by the bank,” Ted said. “It’s close to Quentin’s apartment.” 

 

Eliot followed his instructions to the letter, arriving at the bank with no trouble. “I’ll just park in the garage,” Ted said, leaning forward to take in the scenery outside the window. “I don’t want to make you parallel park.”

 

Eliot laughed. “Oh, I can parallel park,” he said. “Watch.” He threw his right arm over the back of Quentin’s seat, turning slightly to be able to see behind him. Even with one hand, he backed Quentin’s dad’s truck into a spot between two cars on the side of the road on the first try. 

 

“Whoa,” Quentin said. 

 

Eliot laughed as he unbuckled his seatbelt, leaning over. He tipped Quentin’s chin up and kissed him. “Impressed?” he said.

 

“Um… Very,” Quentin admitted. He’d never seen anyone parallel park that easily and that quickly.

 

“You’re really good at this,” Ted said, abruptly reminding both Quentin and Eliot that he was there.

 

“Thanks for driving us up,” Eliot said. “I’ll see you around, sir.” He climbed out of the car, closing the door and crossing around to the trunk. Quentin loved to leave, too, but stopped when his father spoke. 

 

“How long have you been dating?” Ted asked. 

 

“Um… Awhile,” Quentin said. 

 

Ted smiled faintly. “You know, I thought it was a little weird that Eliot was wearing the same outfit in all of your pictures, but to each his own, I suppose…” 

 

Quentin froze, his cheeks turning red. “Um… Uh…”

 

Ted laughed again, opening the door a crack. “It’s okay,” he said. “I knew. But I’m glad you’re together now. I’m glad you’re happy.” 

 

Quentin relaxed a little, smiling as he slumped down in the seat. “Thanks, Dad,” he said.

 

“You’re welcome, Curly Q,” Ted said. “Love you.”

 

“Love you, too, Dad,” Quentin said. “Thanks. For not, uh…”

 

“Blowing your cover?” Ted offered with a laugh. 

 

“Yeah,” Quentin said. 

 

“Anytime,” Ted said. He turned slightly when there was a thump behind them, Eliot shutting the trunk. “He’s a good one.”

 

“Yeah, he is,” Quentin said. “He really is.”

 

—- 

 

_ Eliot ;)  _

Hey, El? 

 

Yeah? 

 

My dad knows we were faking at first

  
  


Fuck!! 

What gave us away? 

 

You remember all the pictures we took that one day? 

 

Yeah

 

We were wearing the same clothes in all of them 

 

Are you fucking kidding me


	12. The One Where Eliot Gives a Show

_ Bambi  _

Margo babe you busy Friday night???

 

It depends 

 

I’ve got a gig

I’m singing at a bar 

I want you to come

 

Awww my baby’s first big break 

I’ll be there 

Can I bring Penny? 

 

I’m asking Q to come so seems fair

 

I’m so proud of you babe

 

Thanks I’m proud of me too

 

—- 

 

Quentin liked his relationship. He loved it. He loved that he could bring Eliot to his apartment and not feel self-conscious about it. He loved that he had fun with Eliot even if they were just running errands. He loved Eliot’s laugh, his smile, his hair, his personality… He loved Eliot. 

 

Their dates were pretty great, too. Even though Eliot was a partier, someone who would dance in clubs and go to raves and thrive surrounded by people much of the time, he understood that Quentin wasn’t that person and he didn’t always want that kind of date. So sometimes they stayed in.

 

“I love this cat more than life itself,” Eliot said. Jane Chatwin was being held aloft by Eliot whose head was in Quentin’s lap. “I would unironically and absolutely literally die for this cat.”

 

“I would, too,” Quentin said. He ran his fingers through Eliot’s curls again, only half paying attention to the movie playing on the TV in front of them. “I got her almost as soon as I moved into this apartment.” 

 

“She really makes the place, I have to say,” Eliot admitted, laying the cat down on his stomach. Jane purred, curled up on Eliot and very content to be there. 

 

“She’s my favorite thing about living here,” Quentin said, “but the water pressure in the shower is a close second.”

 

Eliot laughed and Quentin smiled at the sound. He couldn’t even explain why he liked it so much. The noise of the TV continued behind them for a few moments, breaking the silence for them until Eliot spoke. 

 

“Hey, babe, what are you doing on Friday?” He asked. 

 

Quentin shrugged. “Nothing,” he said. “Just work in the morning.”

 

“Good,” Eliot said. “I’ve got a gig singing at a bar on Friday and I want you to come.” 

 

“Course I’ll come,” Quentin said. He wouldn’t miss Eliot’s show for anything. Even if his boyfriend couldn’t sing, he would still want to support him. “I’ve got to be at the firm early on Saturday, so I can’t stay too late.” 

 

“Perfect,” Eliot said. He shifted slightly to look up at Quentin. “Love you, baby.”

 

Quentin laughed, leaning forward and kissing Eliot on the lips, albeit upside down.

 

“Question,” Eliot said. “Am I Peter Parker or MJ in this situation?”

 

“Nerd,” Quentin said fondly. 

 

“I know I am,” Eliot said and again, insistently, “but am I Peter Parker or MJ?” 

 

—- 

 

Quentin loved hearing Eliot sing. There was something special about his boyfriend and Quentin felt like he was privileged to be able to hear it. He felt, every time he heard Eliot’s voice, that the other man was singing only to him. He was even more excited to see him perform live. The only other times Quentin had seen him perform was on that piano in his aunt’s house and on a community theatre stage as Macbeth. Seeing him in a bar, singing his heart out, was going to be a new experience yet one he was excited to be there for.

 

He walked up to the bar, wearing skinny jeans and a button-down shirt. He wanted to dress up a little but it wasn’t a super classy bar, so he didn’t want to go too far. Jeans and a button-down seemed like a good compromise. Quentin pushed the door open, greeted with the faint smell of cigarette smoke and beer and the sound of Eliot singing softly. 

 

“One day more,” he sang. “Another day, another destiny. This never-ending road to Calvary. These men who seem to know my crime will surely come a second time. One day more.” 

 

Quentin let out a soft puff of air, smiling as he leaned into the music. He lingered near the door until another voice pulled him from his stupor. 

 

“Quentin!” Margo shouted. “Q, get over here!”

 

He looked over to the sound of her voice, immediately making his way through the crowded bar towards Margo. She and Penny had claimed a table close to the stage and to Eliot. She was done up as usual, her hair in curls and wearing make-up and a slinky dress. Penny was wearing a tank top layered over his binder, faded jeans, and a scarf wrapped two or three times loosely around his neck. 

 

“Hey,” he said. Penny pushed a glass across the table towards him which was when Quentin noticed he and Margo both had a glass with the same liquid in it in front of them. Quentin took a swig without thinking before he spoke again. “Did I miss anything?”

 

“No,” Margo said, her shoulder against Penny’s. “They’re just doing sound check. He doesn’t start for a few more minutes.”

 

Satisfied, Quentin lowered himself into a chair at the table, slinging his bag over the chair before taking another drink. Another voice called out to him, load through the microphone. 

 

“Quentin!” 

 

Upon realizing he was yelling into the mic, Eliot replaced it on the mic stand, hopping off the stage and crossing to them. Eliot touched Quentin’s chin with a few fingers, tipping it up so they could kiss properly. “Good to see you,” Eliot said when they parted, a little breathless. Quentin was always breathless after they kissed, in a good way.

 

“Good to see you, too,” Quentin said. “I’m excited.”

 

“You and me both,” Eliot said. “My set list is great. You’re going to love it.”

 

“You could sing Mary Had a Little Lamb and Q would be all over that,” Penny quipped. 

 

Eliot laughed, clapping him on the back. Quentin, on the other hand, flushed deeply.

 

Someone across the bar called to Eliot who straightened up. “Shit, gotta go,” he said. “I am being paged.” He went around the table, giving Quentin and then Margo a kiss on the forehead. Penny stopped him quickly. 

 

“If you kiss me, I will shove my drink so far up your ass you’ll be spitting it instead of singing,” he said, deadpan. Eliot laughed, patting Penny on the head instead. 

 

“I’ll see you later!” he said, one last goodbye before he swept back onto the stage. 

 

Grabbing the mic, he pulled it closer to him. “Alright, bitches,” he said. “My name is King Eliot the Spectacular, Eliot if you’re so inclined, and I’m going to sing you something pretty tonight.” 

 

From beside him, Margo cheered loudly. Eliot pointed her out from the stage. “That’s the kind of energy I’m looking for, people,” he said. “This first one is for my best friend, Margo, of whom best friend is far too distant a word.” 

 

Margo beamed again, sitting up straighter. Penny squeezed her hand gently, all three pairs of eyes at the table on Eliot as he started to sing.

 

“Taking over this town, they should worry. But these problems aside, I think I taught you well. That we won't run, and we won't run, and we won't run.” He took a breath before starting the second verse, the music starting to swell behind him. “And in the winter night sky, ships are sailing. Looking down on these bright blue city lights. And they won't wait, and they won't wait, and they won't wait. We're here to stay, we're here to stay, we're here to stay.”

 

He made eye contact with Margo, Quentin noticed, right before he got to the chorus. Her eyes lit up and Quentin could tell how much they cared about each other.

 

“Howling ghosts, they reappear in mountains that are stacked with fear. But you're a king and I'm a lionheart. A lionheart.”

 

When he finished his first song, Quentin was almost mesmerized. He pulled himself out of his stupor to join Margo in leading the round of applause. Eliot waved much like a princess, dipping at the waist in an exaggerated bow. He looked so fancy, Quentin thought, in his slacks, dress shoes, vest, and tie. Quentin loved how he dressed up and this was no exception.

 

The night grew later as Eliot’s set continued, the group of three taking turns getting up to fetch drinks. Quentin was in awe the entire time, his amazement never wavering. That was his boyfriend. His Eliot was dazzling crowds.

 

The last song finally arrived. Eliot pulled the mic out of the stand again, where it had been replaced in the song before, to speak. “This last one is for somebody special to me,” he said. “Quentin Coldwater, this one’s for you.”

 

Quentin’s cheeks turned bright pink as Eliot locked eyes with him. His boyfriend winked before sliding straight into another song.

 

“I had a thought, dear, however scary about that night, the bugs and the dirt. Why were you digging? What did you bury? Before those hands pulled me from the earth? I will not ask you where you came from. I will not ask and neither should you. Honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips. We should just kiss like real people do.”  

 

Eliot made eye contact with Quentin again and Quentin could almost feel those lips on his.

 

\---

 

Eliot was breathless when the last round of applause faded. He stepped down from the stage, greeted first by Margo. She swept him into her arms, squeezing him tightly. She cupped his face in her hands when she finally pulled away, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. “You were so good, El, baby,” she said. “If they didn’t like you, they’re going to have to take to me.”

 

“You’re so sweet, Bambi,” he said, laughing. 

 

He turned his attention to Quentin next, which he was glad for. “You really were good,” Quentin said. He leaned up on his tiptoes, his hand sliding into Eliot’s curls at the back of his head to give him something to hold onto while they kissed. 

 

“Thanks, Q,” Eliot said, grinning. “I was singing right to you.”

 

“I know,” Quentin said, falling flat against his feet and holding Eliot tight for a few moments. 

 

He finally pulled back, turning towards the table. “I got you something,” he said. He reached into his bag, exchanging his phone for something inside. 

 

“It’s plastic,” Quentin said, holding out a rose. “But you did say you could never keep plants alive, so I thought… Maybe this would be better.” He faltered. “But if you don’t like it, you don’t have to take it.”

 

“Of course I’m taking it,” Eliot said, sounding almost offended. He took the rose from Quentin’s hand before pulling his smaller boyfriend into his arms. “I love you,” he said in Quentin’s ear, the only thing Quentin could hear over the casual noise of the bar. 

 

When they broke from their hug, Eliot slung an arm around Quentin’s shoulders. “Now, it’s time to drink,” he said. “I had to be sober to go to work.”

 

Quentin shook his head slightly. “I can’t,” he said. “I already had one and I have work tomorrow.”

 

“Shit, that’s right,” Eliot said. “I’ll wait for your Uber with you.” 

 

Quentin smiled faintly, swinging his bag over his shoulder again. “I’m off tomorrow, so no coffee shop,” Penny told him. 

 

“Cool,” Quentin said. “Then I’ll see you… Monday?”

 

“Monday.” Penny agreed. 

 

Margo bid Quentin good-bye, too, kissing him on the cheek before taking Penny’s hand and pulling him towards the bar. 

 

Quentin and Eliot wandered towards the door of the bar. When the door opened, cool air from outside hit them, tinged with cigarette smoke. There were two men smoking just outside the door, two men who had left in the middle of Eliot’s songs. “Did you call your car, babe?” Eliot asked. 

 

“Yeah,” Quentin said. “Right before your last song.” Quentin squinted out onto the street where an SUV was pulling up. “That’s him,” he said. He turned back to Eliot, who was still holding the rose. “I’ll see you tomorrow after work?” he asked. 

 

“Yeah,” Eliot said. “Dinner. I’m cooking.”

 

Quentin’s mouth watered at the thought. Eliot’s cooking was delicious. “Can’t wait,” Quentin said. Eliot kissed him deeply again, his eyes glittering the whole time. 

 

When they pulled away, Quentin climbed into the car. “I love you!” Eliot called as Quentin’s car drove slowly away.

 

The entire ride back to his apartment, Quentin couldn’t stop thinking about Eliot’s performance. It had been amazing, and the best part, in his opinion, was the final song. A song just for him. His mind was humming with energy from the performance and he knew that even though he’d left to go to bed early, he wouldn’t be sleeping for awhile. He threw his bag on the kitchen table, making his way to the bathroom. 

 

He was stopped along the way by Jane, winding around his ankles and purring. “Good thing I can love more than two things,” he said.

 

\---

 

Missed Call From: Margo 

 

Missed Call From: Margo

 

Missed Call From: Asshole

 

Missed Call From: Margo

 

\---

 

Quentin’s hair was damp from his shower and he was clad in his lounge pants and a white t-shirt when he finally returned to the kitchen. He dug around in his bag for his phone, wanting to charge it before he went to bed. 

 

When he pulled it out, he frowned. Four missed calls, three from Margo and one from Penny. Did they need something or were they drunk dialing him? Just to be safe, Quentin dialed Margo’s number. She picked up almost instantly. 

 

“Hey,” he said. “I got in the shower as soon as I got home. Did you drunk dial me three-”

 

Before he could get any farther, she cut him off. What made his blood run cold was that she was crying. Margo Hansen never cried. 

 

“It’s Eliot,” she said, her voice cracked and broken and as devastated as she felt. “Q, they took him to the hospital.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for leaving you hanging off of that cliff


	13. The One Where Margo and Penny Tell A Story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Promised you it wasn’t what you thought! Shoutout to all of you lovely readers for staying on this far. We’re approaching an ending here folks!

“We were in the bar,” Margo said, her shoulders shaking a little. “Eliot went out with you to see you off.” 

 

Penny shifted closer to her, as close as the armrest on the waiting room chairs would allow. His hand was on her arm but he didn’t speak. Not yet, at least. His face was solemn.

 

“He didn’t come back for a really long time,” Margo said. “But I didn’t think anything of it. Just thought that… That your Uber was running behind.” 

 

—-

 

_ Eliot sighed contentedly as Quentin’s Uber drove away. Performing was one thing, but performing for the two people he loved most in the world? That was something else entirely. A new kind of pride coursed through him when he had met Margo’s eyes, his lionheart. A new kind of pride bled into him when he saw Quentin, dazed and so, so in love as Eliot sang a song that felt like was just for them.  _

 

_ His day had been perfect. Absolutely perfect, even if his stomach was starting to roll. He had downed a drink or two really quickly during a gap between two songs. Smiling regardless, he turned to re-enter the bar.  _

 

—-

 

Penny took over the story when Margo paused. “Someone came in yelling for someone to call 911. That some guy was down on the sidewalk.”

 

Margo swallowed hard, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “I knew it was him,” she said helplessly. “It had to be. Fucking Eliot.” 

 

Quentin wanted to press them because he was desperate for information. They hadn’t wanted to tell him anything on the phone, wanting instead to talk to him in person. But on the other hand, he didn’t want to push Margo. She looked shaken up. Luckily, he didn’t need to press.

 

—- 

 

_ The two men smoking near the entrance caught his eye. One of them, a very young-looking man, was talking animatedly with one hand. The other, with a scruffy beard, was listening somewhat boredly, his joint dangling between his fingers. He rolled his eyes which gave him an opportunity to notice Eliot.  _

 

_ “Hey!” he said. The young man stopped talking, his hand still in the air. “I know you. You’re from… You’re from the bar.” _

 

_ Eliot frowned. The voice did sound familiar. “No shit,” he said. “I just did a whole thing. It was fucking awesome.” He started towards the well-lit bar again before the man with the beard stood up, the joint still between his fingers.  _

 

_ “Hold the fuck up,” he said. “Don’t move. I wanna talk to you.” _

 

_ Eliot snorted, loosely wrapping one arm around his stomach. Those drinks really weren’t agreeing with him. He needed to get a water or something when he got back inside. “Just let me go in,” he said firmly.  _

 

_ As the smoking man stepped out of the shadow of the bench outside the bar, Eliot’s eyes widened with recognition. _

 

_ —-  _

 

“Someone was already calling the ambulance by the time we got outside,” Penny continued. “And there was someone with him.”

 

“Who?” Quentin asked, unable to stop himself from interjecting. He was nervous and he talked when he shouldn’t when he was nervous. If Penny and Margo were in the bar, who would’ve been with Eliot? 

 

“I’m getting there,” Penny said, a little irritably. Quentin would forgive him for it later when they were all calmed down and he realized Penny was stressed, too. 

 

“It was me,” came a voice from behind Margo and Penny’s chairs. 

 

—- 

 

_ “What are you doing here?” Eliot asked, half-smiling when he realized who the man watching him was. _

 

_ “I had to come see my best customer performer,” Josh said with a wry smile. “You’ve been talking about this damn thing nonstop all week. But going to bars alone is kind of sad. So I brought him.” He pointed over his shoulder with a thumb at the second of the two men. Waving from the darkness, Eliot recognized him as Todd. _

 

_ “Well, shit,” Eliot said. “What are you doing out here?” He winced slightly, the ache in his head that had started around his second to last song flaring up. _

 

_ Josh lifted the joint he held in two fingers. “Smoking,” he said.  _

 

_ “You should come in, have a…” Eliot swallowed again, the nausea in his stomach rising up again. “Have a few drinks with us. Me and Margo and Penny.” _

 

_ “We may have to take you up on that offer,” Josh said.  _

 

_ Eliot took a step towards the door but decided against it. “Todd,” he said, his voice strained. “I’m going to need you to get the fuck up. I need to sit down. I’m going to lose whatever’s in my stomach.” _

 

_ Eliot stumbled towards the bench. Todd sprang to his feet just as Eliot dropped to the ground  _

 

_ —- _

 

“Are you telling him what happened?” Josh said, sitting down next to them and handing out coffees. Margo held hers tightly and didn’t drink. Quentin did the same. 

 

“What else would we be doing?” Penny asked irritably.

 

“Well, I was there,” Josh interrupted. “We were talking outside the bar and he just… Boom. Went down like a ton of rocks. Some Good Samaritan called the ambulance and we grabbed an Uber and ended up here.” He spread his hands out. “The end.” 

 

“Not the end,” Quentin said, a little annoyed but mostly scared. “What’s wrong with him?” 

 

“We don’t know,” Margo said helplessly. “They haven’t told us anything yet.”

 

As if on cue, a dark-skinned man in a white coat entered the doors behind Margo and Penny. “The family of Mr. Waugh?” He said. 

 

Margo stood up instantly, spinning around. “That’s me,” she said. “I’m his sister.” 

 

The doctor nodded, approaching them. “Does Mr. Waugh take any medications?” He asked. 

 

Margo nodded. “Yes. An anti-depressant. I can’t remember the name.” 

 

The doctor hummed, like that made sense. “It seems he took his medicine and almost immediately drank alcohol. His blood pressure skyrocketed and caused the reaction. Is the medication Zoloft?” 

 

“That… That sounds right,” Margo said, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand quickly. 

 

“Not surprised,” he said. “Alcohol and Zoloft do not mix.”

 

“I don’t understand,” Quentin said, feeling a little behind in the conversation. “How has… How has this happened before?” 

 

“Eliot use to drink a lot but he hasn’t in a while,” Margo said. “Since… Since he got on his meds.” 

 

Quentin was thankful for the doctor’s pause because it offered him some time to process. There was a lot of information he didn’t know yet about his boyfriend, things he wanted to know. 

 

“Can we see him?” Margo said, almost demanding. 

 

“I’ll have a nurse take you to his room,” the doctor said. He left the waiting room through an automatic door just as a nurse stepped out from behind the counter. The awkward foursome travelled just behind her as she led them down the hall, Quentin’s breath in his throat. He really wanted to see Eliot, just to make sure he was really okay. He glanced over at Margo, holding Penny’s arm, and Josh, trailing behind them, and knew they all felt the same way. 


	14. The One With The Hospital Scene

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m anticipating only a handful more chapters! However I’m so in love with this verse I don’t think I’m letting it go. Maybe start a series of oneshots that take place at different points in the characters’ lives. If there’s anything you want to see, post a comment and let me know!

Quentin heard Eliot before he saw him. His voice was tired, almost slurring together. “Henry?” he asked. “Wait, you’re not Henry.” There was the muffled sound of a woman answering before he spoke again. “Doctor Fogg, I know…”

 

Margo pushed the door open, Quentin at her side with Josh and Penny just behind them. In the center of the room was Eliot. His face was unusually pale, his dark curls standing out starkly against his skin and the white sheets beneath him. Quentin found himself letting out a breath of relief. Eliot didn’t look half as bad as he had feared upon hearing he’d been taken to the hospital. He looked sick, but alive. He was alive and he was going to be okay. 

 

Eliot looked over from where he had been conversing with the nurse when he heard the door creak open and the four people enter. He brightened up considerably, sitting up slightly. “Bambi,” he said. “Quentin. You’ve come to support me on my deathbed.” 

 

“You’re not on your deathbed, bitch,” Margo said. She had been wound so tightly in the waiting room and when Quentin had spoken to her on the phone but it seemed seeing Eliot had calmed her down considerably because she laughed with her eyes watering. She threw her purse down in a chair, squeezing Eliot tight. 

 

“Bambi,” Eliot said, his voice a little strained. “I love you, babe, but I just had my stomach pumped and I am sore as fuck.” 

 

Margo let go as soon as Eliot spoke, balling her hands into fists at her side like she was trying not to hit him. “Don’t you ever do that shit again,” she said. “Don’t you… Don’t you ever fucking scare me like that again.” 

 

Eliot smiled faintly. “I’ll do my best,” he said truthfully. 

 

Quentin stepped to the side. His shuffle of movement must have caught Eliot’s eye because the attention was on Quentin next. 

 

“Q,” he said, smiling softly. 

 

Quentin started forward, lingering at the edge of the bed. “You scared the shit out of me,” he said. “Margo called me and I… I didn’t know what to do.”

 

“If it’s any consolation,” Eliot said, that sparkle still in his eyes despite the fact he was in a hospital, “I don’t know what I’d do without you, either.” 

 

How did Eliot always know exactly what to say? That never ceased to amaze Quentin. 

 

“Hey, El,” he said. “Can I kiss you?”

 

“May you,” Eliot corrected, a slight smile on his face. “May you kiss me.” He paused briefly and smiled, most likely because of the perplexed look on Quentin’s face. “Please do,” he amended. “I’m not going to break in half but be gentle.”

 

Quentin leaned over the side of the bed, lowering his head to kiss Eliot gently on the lips. He was a little colder than normal but Quentin couldn’t care less about that. Eliot was alive and that was all that mattered.

 

“Wow, El,” Josh said from somewhere behind him. Quentin pulled back while the other man finished speaking. “It’s like Penny and I aren’t even here.” 

 

Penny rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “I do not want to be associated with him,” he said. 

 

Margo laughed a little as she stood on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek and Quentin could almost see the tension melting off of her shoulders.

 

Quentin, Eliot, Margo, Penny, and Josh all turned to look at the door when they heard a shuffle of movement. Standing in the doorway was Todd, holding a paper tray full of coffee in each hand. “You guys left before I got back,” he said. “I was looking for coffee.” 

 

“Todd,” Eliot said, heaving a sigh. “I must begrudgingly thank you for your part in saving my life.” 

 

“Uh… You’re welcome?” Todd said, unsure of his position in the room. “I should go.” 

 

“No, you should not,” Margo said. “Come here, bitch.” She made grabby-hands towards Todd who stepped close enough for Margo to grab a cup of coffee before throwing herself into one of the sparse number of chairs in Eliot’s room nearest one side of the bed. Quentin took one, sitting on the opposite side of the bed. Penny took his coffee and settled down next to Margo. Josh held the cup of coffee close to his heart like a child, claiming the last chair.

 

“Uh… Cool,” Todd said uncertainty. “Cool, cool. I’ll… Stand?”

 

Quentin couldn’t help but smile a little. After the night they’d had, they needed the mood lightened a little. And Quentin did understand Todd’s plight. 

 

Josh heaved a sigh, scooting over and patting the seat beside him. “Come on.” 

 

Todd tried to hold back his grin as he sat down next to Josh. “Wow,” he said, holding his own cup of coffee close. “I feel included.” 

 

Eliot huffed, drawing the attention back to him. “Where’s mine?” he whined.

 

“You can have coffee when we get you home, babe,” Margo said, patting his hand. Quentin smiled faintly at the disgusted look on Eliot’s face. 

 

“You work at a coffee shop,” Quentin said. “Thought you’d be sick of coffee.”

 

“I most definitely am not,” Eliot said. “I live for coffee. When I cut down on the smoking and the drinking, I turned to my second dearest friend, caffeine.” 

 

Quentin frowned. “Well, that much caffeine isn’t… Great? But it’s better than smoking. 

 

“And you are not going back to drinking,” Margo said seriously. “The drinks you had during your show reacted with the Zoloft.” 

 

“God, no,” Eliot said, wrinkling his nose. “I wouldn’t. Intentionally, at least. I am marginally more well-adjusted than I was in my tormented youth.” 

 

“Your tormented youth?” Quentin said, sipping his coffee with one eyebrow raised. 

 

“You’re tormented now,” Margo retorted. 

 

“I’m feeling so attacked right now,” Eliot said, pretending to pout dramatically. His efforts were stifled when he yawned. 

 

“Go to bed, asshole,” Margo said, smacking his hand. “What the fuck are you staying up for?” 

 

“Quentin,” Eliot said simply. “This is very Aerosmith.” He cleared his throat, his singing voice a little raspy. “I don’t wanna fall asleep, ‘cause I’d miss you babe, and I don’t wanna miss a thing.” 

 

Quentin flushed again, timidly taking Eliot’s hand. “Go to sleep,” he said. “Please go to sleep.” 

 

“Fine,” Eliot said. “But only because I’m horribly tired after a dreadful day.” 

 

“You sound very Dickensian,” Quentin told him.

 

“ _ You _ sound very Dickensian,” Eliot said, snuggling into the blankets. “I love you, Quentin.”

 

“I love you, too,” Quentin said. He leaned over, kissing his boyfriend on the forehead. When he pulled back, Eliot was asleep.

 

Quentin smiled a little as he leaned back into his chair. Looking up, he realized Margo, Josh, and Todd were the only other people in the room. “Where’s Penny?” he asked. 

 

Margo shrugged slightly. Quentin noticed her eyes were still red. He suddenly remembered exactly how close Margo and Eliot were. If anything happened to him, it would’ve crushed her. They were closer than family. He made a mental note to ask about how they became attached at the hip later, when things were less fragile and scary. 

 

“He said he had to make a call,” Margo said. 

 

Quentin frowned, glancing at his watch. “This early?” 

 

Margo shrugged again. “Fuck if I know.” She glanced over at Todd and Josh again. “Can you two take the opening shift tomorrow?” she asked. “I’ll try and be in tomorrow afternoon if Eliot’s doing better.” 

 

“Aye, aye, Cap’n,” Josh said, saluting her. “In that case, I’m going home. Bye, bitches.” He grabbed Todd’s sleeve, steering the younger man out the door. 

 

“You could go, too,” Margo told Quentin. “I know you have work tomorrow.”

 

Quentin shook his head. “It can wait,” he said. “I’ll stay.” 

 

“Look at us,” Margo said, laughing softly. “A couple of idiots in love with another idiot.”

 

“Yeah,” Quentin echoed, looking over his boyfriend, sleeping peaceful. “Look at us.”


	15. The One With The Uber

 

_Penny_

got an uber

 

You are the sweetest

Thanks babe

 

np

 

Where’d you disappear to Saturday morning?

You went to make a call and never came back

 

talk in the car

long story

 

—-

 

“Move, I’m gay,” Eliot crowed, his voice carrying through the hallway. Quentin rolled his eyes firm his position pushing Eliot’s wheelchair. A nice nurse was suppressing laughter as she walked beside them. Margo was on the other side, holding her bag in front of her, laughing.

 

“I know it’s hard for gay youth, but being gay is not a reason for people to do what you say,” Margo quipped.

 

“Don’t quote John Mulaney at me in my darkest hour,” Eliot said. Quentin suppressed another laugh. “I want to go home.”

 

“I know,” Margo said. “And Nurse Q is going to take good care of you when we get there. But I have to take over for dumb and dumber at the coffee shop. They’ve been there for ages.”

 

“Boo,” Eliot said, pretending to pout. “I thought we were going to have a party.” He paused, thinking for a beat as they got closer to the front doors. “Well, Q and I can party.”

 

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, El,” Quentin said, definitely amused by the prospect and Eliot’s eagerness. “Unless by party you mean rewatch Brooklyn Nine-Nine?”

 

“Actually, that sounds kind of perfect,” Eliot admitted. Quentin smiled, happy to have come up with a safe alternative that pacified his boyfriend.

 

When they finally reached the doors, Quentin stopped. Eliot stood up, Margo holding his arm. He blinked rapidly. “Whoa,” he said. “Stood up too fast.”

 

“You okay?” Quentin asked, frowning.

 

“Yeah,” Eliot said. “Just a little dizzy.”

 

The nurse who had followed them closely took the wheelchair, pushing it out of the middle of the group. “Be careful, Mr. Waugh,” she warned. “We don’t want to see you back here.”

 

“Aw, you know you’ll miss me,” Eliot said. She shook her head, smiling wryly as the three stepped out of the hospital, Quentin and Margo on either side of Eliot.

 

Waiting for them was Penny with his arms crossed leaning against the side of an SUV. He was giving off his usual air of ‘I don’t give a fuck,’ dressed in almost the exact same outfit from the bar Friday night and consequently Saturday morning in the hospital which was the last time any of them had seen him in person. When he spotted them he pushed off the side of the car and opened the door. “There’s three seats in the back and two in the middle,” he said.

 

“You and Q take the middle,” Margo said. “I’ll sit in the back with Penny.”

 

“You’re a doll,” Eliot said, kissing Margo on the cheek.

 

“Doll?” Quentin repeated, suppressing a laugh. “Where are we, the 40s?”

 

“I think it’s charming,” Eliot said, tapping Q on the nose and kissing him on the lips as Margo and Penny climbed into the car. “And you’re a doll, too.”

 

Quentin shook his head, laughing. “Come on, idiot,” he said. “Let’s get in.”

 

Eliot climbed into the car, ducking his head so he wouldn’t smack it as he got in. He buckled himself in as Q closed the door behind him.

 

When Quentin turned around, his own seatbelt buckled, Eliot had his hand wrapped the handle on the roof of the car. “You know what we called this in Indiana?” He asked. “The oh shit handle.”

 

Quentin snorted, shaking his head. “You’re a mess,” he said.

 

“But you love me,” Eliot teased.

 

“God help me, but I do,” Quentin said. Eliot leaned over, batting his eyelashes until Quentin gave him a peck on the lips.

 

“You two,” Penny said, rolling his eyes.

 

“Oh, Penny!” Eliot said, turning slightly in his seat to look at him. “I haven’t seen you in awhile. I hope little old me didn’t keep you from work.”

 

“The library’s only open a few hours in the afternoon on Sunday, dumbass,” Penny said. “And I don’t work there anymore.”

 

Quentin’s thoughts stilled instantly. Margo was likewise shocked. “But you’ve worked there for years,” Quentin said dumbly. He’d worked there since they were fresh out of high school.

 

“What the fuck,” Margo said. “Did they fire you? If they fired you, I’ll-“

 

“They didn’t fire me,” Penny interrupted. “I quit. That’s where I went Saturday morning.”

 

The car was quiet for a few long moments before Quentin finally broke it. “You loves the library,” He said. “Why would you quit?”

 

“I didn’t love the library,” Penny said, leaning back in his seat. “I loved the books and knowledge and shit. I fucking hated my boss. Transphobic bitch.”

 

“You’ve hated her this long,” Quentin said. “Why quit now?”

 

“Life is short,” Penny said. He nodded towards Eliot. “This gay motherfucker showed me that. Can’t waste my time.”

 

Eliot nodded slightly. “You right,” he said softly.

 

“Besides,” Penny said, “there’s some shit I’ve been working on. And now I can actually do it.”

 

He looked out the window with that, signaling that he was done talking. Margo, Quentin noticed, was smiling a little. She leaned her head against his shoulder. “I’m proud of you,” she said.

 

“I know,” he said.

 

There was a long pause before Margo spoke again. “I love you,” she said.

 

Penny turned from the window. “I know,” he said.

 

“Okay, Han,” Margo said, leaning back. Penny caught her hand before she got too far from him.

 

“I love you, too,” he said.

 

Margo smiled softly, cupping his cheek in her hand and pulling him forward for a kiss.

 

“Can you two lovebirds fucking move, please?” The driver said irritably in a thick Russian accent. “I can’t see out the damn window.”

 

Quentin turned to face front in his seat, grinning. His weekend had changed drastically from what he’d anticipated but he wasn’t too upset about it anymore. Things were changing and for one of the first times in his life he was kind of excited for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Throwback to a few paragraphs ago when Mayakovsky was their uber driver for no reason other than I wanted it


	16. The One Where It’s On The House

_ Asshole _

i need ur help 

 

That’s vague 

How much is bail? 

 

im not in jail dumbfuck

ur specializing in business law and i need that 

 

Why do you need that?? 

 

i want 2 start a business why the fuck else 

 

Oh, shit 

Really?

 

yeah

i need ur help with business licenses and shit

still in the early stages 

dont have a building yet 

but i do have a concept 

and a name 

 

This would be a good thesis project

What’s the name? 

 

The Neitherlands

 

—- 

 

_ Eliot ;)  _

Are you coming to the shop today??? 

 

Yeah 

Me and Penny are we have some shit to work on

 

Good 

We need to talk 

 

—- 

 

“What flew up your ass this morning?” Penny asked as soon as he stepped out of his apartment building to meet Quentin. Quentin didn’t know he was showing how nervous he was but he could never really hide from Penny. They knew each other too well for that. 

 

Quentin shoved his hands in his pockets as they started to walk towards the shop. “It’s Eliot,” he confessed. “He said we need to talk.”

 

Penny arched an eyebrow. “Huh,” he said, but he didn’t say anything else. 

 

“Huh?” Quentin repeated. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

“It means exactly what I said,” Penny added. “Huh.”

 

“Isn’t that bad?” Quentin asked, his shoulders hunched. “Wanting to talk? Doesn’t that mean he wants to break up?” 

 

“Not necessarily,” Penny said. “It could just mean he’s got something he needs to talk to you about. That dork is madly in love with you for some reason. He wouldn’t drop you like that with no warning.”

 

“I know,” Quentin said. The voice of reason in his head sounded a lot like Penny did now. It didn’t sound like Quentin at all. “Just…” 

 

“Look, dude,” Penny said. “Four blocks. Just don’t overthink it for four blocks. And then he can tell you whatever he was going to say and it’ll be okay.”

 

“Four blocks,” Quentin repeated. “Four blocks.” 

 

He definitely was not counting down the steps to the store except he was. He breathed a sigh of relief when he pushed the door open but when Eliot turned to face Quentin, his heart sank again. Eliot looked upset about something and Margo looked angry. Whatever it was it wasn’t good.

 

“Shit,” Penny said. “What happened?”

 

“We’re going to be out of a fucking job is what happened,” Margo said irritably. “Bastard’s selling!” 

 

“Selling,” Quentin repeated, dumbfounded. “The owner’s selling the shop.” 

 

“Yeah,” Eliot said. “As soon as he finds a buyer, we’re out and he’s closing.”

 

“That’s awful,” Quentin said softly. He couldn’t imagine this place not being here. It was where he and Penny had countless cups of coffee together, countless conversations and inside jokes. It was where Penny met his girlfriend. It was where Quentin met the love of his life.

 

“And now we’re boned,” Margo said, fuming. “I can’t believe he’s selling. Fucking hell.” Angrily, Margo stormed into the back. A few seconds later, Eliot and Quentin both flinched at the sound of Margo slamming dishes in the sink. 

 

“Needless to say, we are very unhappy with our current predicament,” Eliot said. “I must restart the job search. God, I hated looking for this job. Maybe I’ll bartend. Or become a… Style consultant at Macy’s or some shit.” Quentin smiled weakly before Eliot continued. “Or strip.” 

 

“Don’t strip,” Quentin said. Eliot’s sense of humor always managed to lift his spirits a little. Even when he was obviously hurting, he was still making Quentin smile. 

 

“Should I go back there?” Penny asked, stepping towards the edge of the counter. 

 

“Nah,” Eliot said. “She needs some alone time to cool off.” He boosted himself up onto the counter before swinging his legs over and dropping down on the other side behind the register. “I’m making dinner tomorrow night to take our minds off of our impending unemployment. You two want to come?”

 

“Uh, yeah,” Quentin said. “Sounds good.”

 

“I’ll be there,” Penny said. 

 

“7 tomorrow night,” Eliot said. “And coffee’s on the house this morning, on account of we’re going under anyway.”

 

The bell above the door chimed as another customer entered. “Ah, shit,” he said. “I’ll bring the usuals over in a minute. Now, shoo.”

 

Quentin and Penny turned, claiming their usual table near the window. Quentin shrugged his bag off of his shoulder a pulled out his laptop. He opened it up, running his finger over the mousepad to wake it up. “Okay,” he said. “First thing is applying for a business license. Do you have a location yet?” 

 

Quentin looked up from his laptop screen, frowning when he noticed Penny, his mind somewhere far away. “You alright?” 

 

Penny blinked, dragging himself back to the conversation. “Yeah,” he said. “I don’t have a location yet. But I’ve got some ideas.” 

 

“We can leave that one blank for now, then,” Quentin said. He was quiet for a beat before he spoke again. “You seem a little…” He trailed off. “Out of it?” 

 

“This place closing down does not bode well for me,” Penny said wryly. “Fuck it. I quit my job for this, I’m doing it.”

 

Quentin smiled faintly. “That’s more like it,” he said. “Okay, uh… Legal name of business.”

 

Penny didn’t hesitate for a beat before he answered. “The Neitherlands,” He said. 

 

“Huh,” Quentin said, his fingers flicking over the keys quickly. 

 

“Bookstore,” Penny answered. “New and used. And I want to offer, like… coffee and pastries and shit.”

 

“That’s a good idea,” Quentin said, mostly to himself, while he typed. 

 

Penny smiled wryly. “I like to think so,” he said.

 

“Shit,” Quentin said. “I didn’t mean… I didn’t mean that to sound, like, condescending? Or that I’m surprised you had a good idea. You’re my best friend, and… It’s a good idea and I believe in you and all that.” 

 

“Q, I get it,” Penny said. “It’s a good idea. Thanks, dude. What’s the next question?” 

 

Quentin cleared his throat, flushing a little as he looked down at the form again. “Legal n…” He trailed off before he finished. 

 

“Go on,” Penny prompted. “I don’t have all day. I want to scout our properties.”

 

“Legal name of proprietor or proprietors,” Quentin finished. 

 

Penny winced, exactly like Quentin had anticipated. “Fuck,” he said. “I never changed it.” 

 

“You did not,” Quentin said. “Should I put..?”

 

“Leave it for now,” Penny said. “Maybe I’ll finally get the damn thing changed.”

 

Before they could go any farther on the form, Eliot meandered over, putting a cup of coffee in front of Penny and Quentin. “Coffee,” He said in a sing-song voice. “How’s it going over here?” 

 

“Well enough,” Penny said with a shrug, taking a sip of his coffee. 

 

“Thanks, El,” Quentin said. He tugged on Eliot’s apron once to pull him down low enough to get a kiss.

 

“Enjoy,” he said. “I’m gonna go see if Margo’s broken any of our dishes.”

 

—- 

 

_ Eliot ;)  _

Can you do me a favor before dinner tomorrow? 

 

What am I doing?? 

 

I’ll get you the details soon 

Love you

 

Love you more 

 

Love you most 

 

Love you 3000

 

Rude


	17. The One With The Dinner Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, it looks like the next chapter is going to be the last one! If there’s any scenes that weren’t in the fic or anything in this verse you want to see in a stand-alone or maybe another multi chapter, throw a comment down! I absolutely love this story and I’m not ready for t to be ending either!

_ Margo  _

What’s this dinner about??? 

Eliot wants me to accompany him to a Party City 

A fucking Party City

I didn’t even know those things still existed 

 

Well it was supposed to be just dinner

To make you feel better 

 

I feel fine

I’m not filled with rage anymore 

 

Sure

But I turned it into a baby shower

 

A what now? 

 

A baby shower 

For Penny 

 

A baby shower 

For my boyfriend

Who is an adult man 

 

Well, it’s kind of a baby shower 

I don’t know it made sense in my head

You guys do your part and I’ll do mine

Trust me I’m smart

 

I know you are

Even if you don’t talk like to sometimes 

I trust you

And I like you a lot 

 

Margo is having an emotion towards me 

Call the police 

Or the newspaper 

 

Ha, ha

My burning rage fizzled into introspection

And I do care about you 

 

Thanks

I care about you, too

 

You better

There’s my Margo 

 

Fuck you <3

 

—-

 

“What’s Eliot making tonight?” Penny asked through the door. He was still hidden away in the bathroom, finishing getting dressed. It was a dinner party, he was told by Eliot, and that included fancy clothes. 

 

Quentin shrugged outside the door. “Coq au vin, I think,” he said. 

 

“Coq au vin?” Penny called back. “You make that with wine. Won’t bad shit happen if he has alcohol?” 

 

“He said he found some non-alcoholic wine that tastes almost as good as he remembered Pinot Noir being.”

 

“He’s fucking crazy,” Penny said. 

 

“I know,” Quentin said fondly. Eliot was a little crazy but Quentin wouldn’t change with for anything. 

 

“What’s he want to do, anyway?” Penny asked. “Like, with life in general?”

 

“Honestly, I don’t think he knows,” Quentin said. “He wants to sing and he wants to cook.”

 

“Hm,” Penny said, and then he went quiet for awhile. Quentin let the silence fill the space until Penny finally opened the door.

 

He was wearing dress pants, a plain white shirt, and a long overcoat. Around his neck was a scarf, wrapped loosely with the ends hanging down in front of him. “Nice,” Quentin said. 

 

Penny was secretly proud of the compliment. Quentin could tell only because he knew him so well. “You, too,” Penny said. Quentin was wearing his nice, dark jeans with a button up, tie, and his favorite purple sweater. 

 

“Thanks,” Quentin said. He checked his phone. “You ready?” 

 

“Yeah,” Penny said, sticking his hands in his pockets and starting towards the door. Quentin grabbed his leather shoulder bag from where he’d left it on Penny’s sofa as they crossed to the door. It made Penny frown. 

 

“Why do you need your bag for dinner?” he asked. 

 

“I got Eliot something and I didn’t have anywhere else to put it,” Quentin said on command, as if he’d been waiting for Penny to ask. Penny arched an eyebrow at him but shrugged and opened the apartment door. 

 

“You’re fucking weird, Coldwater,” Penny told him. Quentin smiled as he locked the door, closing it as they left the apartment. 

 

—- 

 

Eliot and Margo’s apartment came up quickly. Penny climbed out of the Uber first, Quentin following. “Why do we keep getting that weird Russian asshole?” he asked. 

 

Penny shrugged. “Fuck if I know.” 

 

They entered the building together, opting to take the stairs instead of the elevator. Quentin’s bag felt heavy whenever it bumped into his leg but in a good way. He couldn’t wait to show off what he’d brought. 

 

Penny didn’t even bother knocking, just opened the door and walked straight in. He was stopped by Margo and Eliot. They were both wearing blue party hats while Eliot held a helium-filled balloon that proclaimed,  _ it’s a boy! _

 

“What the fuck,” Penny said softly. Quentin was almost nervous for a beat, nervous that they’d overstepped and Penny wouldn’t like it. He couldn’t see his friend’s face, after all. But Margo could and she was smiling. 

 

“We wanted to show you how much you mean to us, babe,” she said. “And that we support you. Q?”

 

Quentin was stirred out of his own mind. “Oh, shit,” he said. He fumbled in his bag for a moment before handing Penny a Manila folder. Penny flipped it open cautiously before looking up at Quentin. 

 

“Is this..?” he asked.

 

“The name change forms,” Quentin said. “It’s, uh… It’s like Margo said. We support you. And we love you. So I, um… I wanted to do this for you. To show you that I care about you - that we do. Because you’re…” Quentin faltered. “You’re my best friend and practically my brother and I love you. And I don’t tell you that enough.”

 

Penny was quiet for what seemed like forever before he pulled Quentin into a tight hug. Quentin’s breath was forced out of him and he almost stumbled back with the force of the impact. He leaned into it as soon as he had his wits about him, squeezing Penny back as tight as he could. “I love you, too, fucking nerd,” Penny said softly, so quietly only Quentin could hear him. 

 

They finally parted. Still holding the folder, Penny turned, pulling Margo close to him for a long kiss. Eliot looked eyes with Quentin, the corner of his lip twitching. “How long do you think they can go?” he asked. 

 

Quentin shrugged, crossing from the entryway of the apartment where he still lingered to stand near Eliot. “Probably longer than we can.” 

 

Without stopping the kiss, Margo gave them the middle finger behind Penny’s back. 

 

Eliot laughed, leaning over to kiss Quentin on the cheek. “I love our friends,” he said fondly.

 

“Me, too,” Quentin said. 

 

Eliot touched Quentin’s neck after the kiss. “What’s this?” he asked. There was a chain there, a necklace he didn’t usually where. 

 

Quentin flushed slightly. “Oh, it’s nothing,” he said. “Just, uh… Something I’ve been wearing lately.”

 

When Penny and Margo separated, Penny’s arm was still around her waist with the folder in his other hand. “Let’s eat,” he said.

 

“Thank fuck,” Eliot said, letting go of the balloon and letting it drift up to the ceiling. “I thought you’d never say that. I’m starving.” 

 

The party made its way to the kitchen which was decked out with a banner on one wall matching Eliot’s balloon and streamers over almost every surface. “Sit,” Eliot said, gesturing to the table. “Let me get the food.

 

Margo, Quentin, and Penny all sat around the round table. Moments later, Eliot arrived with a pan, grinning. “Behold, coq au vin with no actual alcohol.” 

 

“It smells really good,” Quentin said. 

 

“It’s fucking amazing,” Eliot said, taking the only empty seat at the table and starting to dish out the meal. He sat back when he was finished serving, smiling contently as he watched the others sample his meal. 

 

“Shit,” Quentin said, his fork clinking on the plate. “El, that’s really good.” 

 

“Aw, thanks, babe,” Eliot said. He took a sip from his champagne flute filled with sparkling grape juice before digging into his own portion. 

 

For awhile, no one spoke, too involved in their own plates. It was Penny who broke the white noise of forks scraping plates and quiet chewing. “I found a place today,” he said. “Owner’s letting me lease it at a decent price.” 

 

“You didn’t tell me you were looking at buildings, babe!” Margo said. “Where is it?”

 

“Yeah,” Quentin said after he’d swallowed. “I can add the address to the business license and get it submitted.” 

 

“It’s the coffee shop,” Penny said. 

 

“You’re shitting me,” Eliot said. “That’s awesome.”

 

“I’m not,” Penny said. “Helps that I already know the place well. He sold me a lot of the equipment in the building so I’m only leasing the space. It was a good chunk of money but it was cheaper than I’d get that kind of equipment for anywhere else.” 

 

“Wow, Penny,” Quentin said. “That’s great.” 

 

Privately, he was glad that Penny’s business venture was happening in the coffee shop. He was attached to the place where he’d met Eliot. He didn’t want to leave it behind. 

 

“That is great,” Margo said, squeezing his arm. “I’m glad you found a place.” 

 

“Me, too,” Penny said. He looked up at Eliot, taking a breath before he spoke. “I want you to be my business partner,” he said. 

 

Eliot laughed, shaking his head. “You’re funny,” he said. He took another bite of his dinner, chewing and swallowing before he looked up. Penny was still watching him. “Wait,” He said. “You’re serious.”

 

“Well, yeah,” Penny said. “I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t. The Neitherlands is a bookstore coffee shop hybrid. I need someone I trust to handle the coffee shop part. This is a brand new thing. I can’t do it on my own. Who better than you?” 

 

“Well…” Eliot faltered. “Margo, for start.” 

 

“That’s sweet,” Margo said, “but we talked about it already. It’s not my thing. I realized the reason I got so pissed about the shop closing was because it was my excuse to stay in my safe, same old life. But now that it’s gone, I’m going to college.” She grinned. “Political science. I’m going to make this shitshow a better place.” 

 

Quentin couldn’t help but smile a little. Political science. It was the perfect major for Margo. He could definitely see her as a politician.

 

“Bambi,” Eliot said. “I’m proud of you.” He leaned over to kiss her on the forehead. She was smiling when he pulled away. 

 

“I know,” she said. “Love you, bitch. But still.” She nudged Penny with her shoulder. 

 

“So?” Penny prompted. “Are you in?”

 

“You really trust me with this?” Eliot asked. “Me, the definition of disaster gay?” 

 

“For some reason, I do,” Penny said with a wry smile. 

 

Eliot was quiet for awhile before he finally responded. “I’d fucking love to,” he said seriously.

 

Penny leaned forward in his chair, holding his hand out to Eliot across from him. “Partners,” He said. 

 

Eliot took it, shaking his hand firmly. “Partners,” he repeated.

 

Helping Penny - and now Eliot - open this store was going to be a great thesis project, Quentin thought as he looked around at the three other people seated around the table that had become his family, but it was going to be so much more than that. 


	18. The One That Happens a Month or So Later

__“He’s been in there awhile,” Quentin said nervously, rising up on his toes before falling back flat on his feet. “What if something went wrong?”

 

“It’s a hearing,” Margo said. “The only plausibly bad thing that could happen is they tell him no. They aren’t torturing him.” 

 

“It’s government, babe,” Eliot said. “They’re fucking slow as shit.” 

 

“True,” Quentin admitted. But he kept pacing regardless, back and forth and back and forth in front of Margo and Eliot on a park bench.

 

“You’re making me tired,” Margo said.

 

“Yeah, come on,” Eliot said. “Sit with me. If anyone should be nervous, it would be me and Penny. The Neitherlands is opening in…” He checked his watch. “3 hours.” Eliot paused, frowning. 

 

“Holy fuck,” he whispered. “The store is opening in a few hours.” 

 

“Great,” Margo said, sliding back on the bench. “Now everyone is losing their shit.”

 

As if on cue, the courthouse doors opened and Margo looked up. Her moving caught Quentin’s eye so he looked, too. There was Penny, picking his way across the lawn towards them. Margo and Eliot stood up and they all grouped around Penny when he got closer. 

 

“So?” Quentin prompted. 

 

“I did it,” Penny said. “Willow Adiyodi is dead.” 

 

Margo pulled him close, kissing him deeply. She kicked her leg up like an old-time starlet, making Quentin smile. He waited to speak until they’d finally stopped kissing. “I’m just glad they accepted the business license with Penny,” he said. He felt relieved, grateful, although he wasn’t 100% sure why.

 

“Wait,” Eliot said. “Hold on. You started this at the party so you could put your real name on the business license, right?” He asked. 

 

“Yeah,” Penny said, his arm around Margo’s waist.

 

“But we got our license last week,” Eliot continued.

 

“I know,” Penny said. 

 

“They were fine with it not being done yet,” Quentin said. “We were worried for nothing. They just said as long as we had the process started, everything would be fine.”

 

“Oh, cool,” Eliot said. “Good.”

 

“It’s nice to have it done,” Penny said. “Fuck, I should’ve done this ages ago.”

 

“Pleasure to meet you, Penny,” Eliot said, bowing exaggeratedly. “High King Eliot the Spectacular at your service.”

 

Quentin laughed, shaking head slightly. Penny rolled his eyes but Quentin could tell he was suppressing a smile. He’d always been able to read Penny better than most.

 

“Let’s get back,” Penny said finally. “We’ve still got to set up and do sound checks and shit.”

 

Penny and Eliot had decided, in order to attract customers, that their opening night event would be an open mic night. The inaugural song was going to be performed by Eliot, because who else could it be? Being their friends, Margo and Quentin were, of course, going to be around the entire night. Quentin would be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to it. He loved them both very much and this was the grand opening of their brain child. Their business.

 

He was proud of them. 

 

“Are you sure I can’t sing Fuck-“ 

 

Penny cut Eliot off before he could even finish the title of the song. “Nothing with fuck in it,” he said. “We don’t want to alienate any of our customer base yet.” 

 

Eliot looped his arm through Quentin as the four of them started to head back to the shop. “We have a rainbow flag and a trans flag flanking our front door,” Eliot said. “We’ve already alienated some people.” 

 

“People that you don’t need,” Quentin said. 

 

“True,” Eliot admitted. “No homophobes in my store.” 

 

“Our store,” Penny added. 

 

“Our store,” Eliot amended.

 

He laughed after that, shaking his head. Quentin frowned at the gesture. “You okay?” He asked. 

 

“I’m great,” Eliot said, grinning. “Better than okay. Fuck, I never thought this is where I’d be.” 

 

It was Penny’s turn to frown. “Rude,” he said.

 

“Not in a bad way,” Eliot admitted. “I honestly thought I would’ve been dead in a ditch or an alley or something by now.”

 

“You’re very much alive, babe,” Margo said. 

 

“I know,” Eliot said, sighing happily. “And it’s pretty great.”

 

“Damn right,” Penny said. 

 

Quentin smiled, too. “Damn right,” he echoed.

 

—- 

 

The store looked so different. It was different because of the bookshelves lining the walls and creating aisles, different because of the alcoves of cushiony chairs, different because of the flags and the signs and the decor, but it also looked different because of the amount of people in it. Quentin realized, leaning against the coffee counter, that the most people he’d ever seen in the building before it was the Neitherlands was 10.

 

“So, what’d you buy?” Margo prompted, stirring Quentin out of his musings. 

 

“Huh?” he said. 

 

Margo rolled her eyes fondly from behind the counter. For their grand opening, she was helping Eliot and Penny by working as a barista again while Eliot was singing. There were two registers and Penny was manning the other one. But before Margo has taken her old place and Eliot had started flitting about the store, charming their customers, she and Quentin had been the first two customers in line.  She poked the plastic bag Quentin left sitting on the counter.

 

“Oh,” Quentin said. “Uh… Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone.”

 

Margo laughed. “Don’t you own all of them already?” 

 

Quentin shrugged. “Yeah. But it’s Harry Potter. And it felt right.”

 

“To each his own,” Margo said. Quentin slid to the side when a small gaggle of customers walked up to place their orders. He couldn’t help but smile when he heard them talking about how the idea for the shop was interesting. He was proud of them. They were doing something good here. 

 

Eliot’s voice brought Quentin’s attention again to the rest of the shop and out of his own mind. “Guys, gas, and non-binary pals,” Eliot said into the microphone, “it’s my pleasure to welcome you to the grand opening of the Neitherlands. To kick things off, I’m going to sing you folks a song. This one goes out to Penny over there at the register, Margo over there with the coffee, and my boyfriend, Quentin.” He locked eyes with Quentin, grinning when Q blushed. “Have you seen him? He’s not missing or anything, I just want to show him off because I love him. He’s over there by the coffee.” 

 

Quentin waved slightly, his cheeks bright pink.

 

“Well, either way,” Eliot said, “I’m gonna sing a song.” 

 

Quentin watched as Eliot snapped the mic back into the stand above his keyboard. He sat down on the stool, playing a quick melody to get accustomed to the piano again. It was Like Real People Do which made Quentin smile. 

 

Eliot popped his knuckles before spreading his hands over the keyboard. He took a deep breath and started to sing. 

 

“It’s a little bit funny,” he crooned. “This feeling inside. I’m not one of those who can easily hide. I don't have much money, but boy if I did, I'd buy a big house where we both could live.” He glanced up at Quentin, smiling through the words. “And you can tell everybody this is your song. It may be quite simple, but now that it's done, I hope you don't mind. I hope you don't mind that I put down in words how wonderful life is while you're in the world.”

 

Life really was wonderful, Quentin thought. He didn’t need Elton John to tell him that. He just needed his family. 

 

After Eliot’s song, he melted back into the crowd, back to dazzling and charming their patrons while a slow but steady stream of people took the stage. Quentin carefully arranged his new Harry Potter book and his jacket behind the coffee counter before he meandered over to Penny at the other register on the other side of the store. 

 

“Opening’s going well,” he remarked. 

 

“Better than I thought, to be honest,” Penny admitted. “Feels good that my brain child is doing well.”

 

They lapsed into silence, content to watch the customers together. Penny broke the silence every once in awhile by scanning purchases for the very customers they’d been watching but it was Quentin who started their conversation again. 

 

“Can I ask you something?” he said. 

 

Penny shrugged. “You just did,” he pointed out. 

 

Quentin laughed nervously. “Uh, something else,” he said. “Something personal.”

 

“Shoot,” Penny said. 

 

Quentin hesitated, chewing on his lip before he spoke. “Why didn’t you change your name sooner?” he asked. “I mean, you’ve known you wanted to be William since middle school. Why not change it earlier?” 

 

Penny paused, frowning for a second. Quentin feared he’d overstepped until his friend spoke. 

 

“I was afraid,” he admitted. “It was some real internalized bullshit. Been brought up my whole life to believe that trans people were just… Confused. And some part of me believed that. I thought that if I changed my name, I’d realize I was just confused and I wasn’t William, I was still just…” He faltered for a beat. “Willow.” Penny shook his head, heaving a sigh. 

 

“But I’m not afraid anymore,” he said. “I’ve got good people around me and I know everyone who said I was confused were full of horseshit, not me.” Penny shrugged. “I’m glad Willow’s gone,” he said. “I really am. But I don’t hate her. I never did. She made me who I am.”

 

Quentin smiled faintly. He had the overwhelming urge to hug his friend but before he could another customer stepped up to the register. 

 

When she had gone, Penny spoke up again. “It’s Penny,” He said. “My legal name’s Penny.”

 

Quentin beamed at that. Penny smiled, too. It was a real smile, not the half-smiles or sarcastic ones he usually gave. “I love you,” Quentin said. 

 

“I know,” Penny said, his lip twitching. “Love you, too, fucking nerd.”

 

Quentin laughed again, shaking his head. “I, uh… There’s something I need to do,” he said.

 

“Godspeed,” Penny said, turning back to his register as Quentin worked his way to the stage. He waited nervously off to the side while a boy recited a poem he’d written, taking the mic before he lost his nerve. 

 

“Uh, hi,” he said. “My name’s Quentin.” 

 

At the sound of his voice, he noticed Eliot look up from the pair of girls, hands linked together, that he was talking to and smile. “I wasn’t going to do anything because I’m not the performer,” he admitted. “That’s Eliot. But… He deserves a big grand gesture. He deserves the world, actually. But I can’t give him that. But I can do this.” 

 

Quentin took a deep breath, closing his eyes to gather up the courage he needed. He found it somewhere in him and started to sing. 

 

“Today is gonna be the day that they're gonna throw it back to you,” he sang, his voice trembling a little until he sunk into the rhythm. “By now you should've somehow realized what you gotta do. I don't believe that anybody feels the way I do, about you now.” He opened his eyes to see that Eliot was smiling, a full, bright, innocent smile. He was glowing.  

 

“And all the roads we have to walk are winding,” Quentin continued. “And all the lights that lead us there are blinding. There are many things that I would like to say to you but I don't know how.”

 

Quentin paused for a moment, reaching behind his neck and pulling a chain over his head. Hanging on it was a key. “So, uh…” He laughed nervously, locking eyes with Eliot as he held the key loosely in his hand. “El, you’re my first real relationship. I didn’t know what love was supposed to feel like until you. I didn’t even think I wanted it. But now I know you, and I love you, and… And I really would like it if you moved in with me. Because…” Quentin took another deep breath and then started to sing again. 

 

“Maybe, you’re gonna be the one that saves me. And after all, you’re my wonderwall.”

 

His voice tapered off. Before the note had ended, Eliot was in front of him, cupping one of Quentin’s cheeks in his hand. “Quentin Makepeace Coldwater,” he said, “you are the single most romantic and adorable individual I have ever met. I want nothing more than to wake up next to you every single day.” 

 

Leaning down, Eliot pressed his lips to Quentin’s. They were soft and warm and felt like home. 

 

Quentin was smiling so much when they separated that the corners of his eyes were crinkling. “You’re so cute,” Eliot said. He took the chain from Quentin’s hand, draping it over his head so the key rested just above his heart. 

 

—-

 

There was no one left in the store but Quentin, Penny, Eliot, and Margo, but there was still music playing. Eliot had hooked up his phone to his Bluetooth speaker, some sweet, slow song surrounding them. “Dance with me,” Eliot said, offering Quentin his hand. 

 

Quentin took it, letting Eliot lead him out to the center floor of the store. He linked his hands behind Eliot’s neck, Eliot’s hands on Quentin’s waist. They started to sway to the music slowly until Penny spoke from behind them.

 

“We probably need to lock up the store at some point tonight,” he said, a little amused. 

 

Eliot opened his mouth to speak but Margo cut him off, reappearing from behind the counter. “Let them have a moment,” she said. “Come here, babe. Dance with me.” 

 

Quentin watched as Penny, smiling faintly, crossed over to Margo. He put his hands on her hips, hers locked behind his neck. “This is a nice place,” she said. “And this was a really nice day.”

 

“You got that right,” Penny said. 

 

Quentin looked back up at Eliot, smiling when he met his boyfriend’s eyes. “It was the perfect day,” Eliot said. 

 

Quentin rested his head against Eliot’s chest, content to listen to Eliot’s heartbeat. Nothing could make his life better. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are... The epilogue. I hope you enjoyed this last chapter and the fic as a whole! If there’s anything else you’d like to see in this universe, drop a comment and let me know! I have a few ideas that didn’t fit in the main fic but that doe sopen the possibility of oneshots. Thank you loyanresders so much for going on this journey with me!


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